


So Far Exceeds Expression

by neveralarch



Category: 17th Century CE RPF, Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, F/M, Historical, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-14
Updated: 2010-08-10
Packaged: 2017-10-19 03:56:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 32,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/196597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neveralarch/pseuds/neveralarch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor lands in 1671, and meets an old friend. Unfortunately that old friend has a plan, and he's never been very good at them. Worse, the military is kind of... disappearing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Betaed by the most excellent birdsarecalling. Written for the 2010 best_enemies bigbang challenge.

When the TARDIS landed, the Doctor rushed to the doors, Jamie following close behind him. Zoe lingered for a moment, peering suspiciously at the oxygen and radiation gauges.

"What are you doing?" called the Doctor, his hands ready to push the doors open. "Don't waste time looking at all those gadgets. Come and have a look!"

"I'm just making sure you haven't landed us on a completely inhospitable planet, Doctor," said Zoe. "It has been known to happen."

"Well, there was that time when the inhabitants of Carzucon refused to share the lemonade, yes, now that you mention it," said the Doctor. He brought his hands away from the doors, folding them and tapping at his pursed lips. "But I really don't think there's much chance of that happening again, they were such uniquely awful people."

"I _meant_ -" began Zoe, but Jamie cut her off.

"I think she was talking about making sure we can breathe and suchlike, Doctor."

"Oh! Oh, yes, of course, how silly of me. And is there breathable air and suchlike, Zoe?"

"Yes, yes there is," said Zoe, and offered the Doctor and Jamie her arms, giving them a sunny smile. "Shall we go out?"

The Doctor smiled at her in turn, and the trio strode out of the TARDIS, arm in arm, a little awkwardly because the doors weren't really wide enough for three people to walk abreast. Finally they managed to sort themselves out and peered around the dark, dank space in which they had materialized.

"Why, it must be some sort of cave," said Zoe. "Look at the rats!" She pointed to one particularly large example gnawing away at a small pile of rubbish.

"No, there's cobblestones under my feet," said Jamie, looking down and then up. "And hey! The roof's made of thatch. I think we must just be in an alleyway."

"Yes, I rather think you're right," said the Doctor. "Let's get out of here and see where we've really ended up."

They felt their way slowly out of the alley, trying to more or less avoid the slimier patches of road and wall. Eventually they found their way to the end of the thatching, where sunlight began to filter through between the roofs of the adjoining buildings. A bustling street greeted them, its sides lined with stalls, squeezing walkers through in single file.

"Fish! Buy fish here!" screamed a woman. Every inch of her - her long dress, her apron, her cloth cap and hair - was stained with something that smelled unpleasantly like fish guts.

"No! Buy my eels, lovely eels! Get off, you old hag, no one wants your rotten fish." Another woman, this one slightly younger and even bloodier, shoved her way toward the Doctor and his companions.

"You shut your filthy mouth," said the fish-seller, blocking the eel-monger's advance. "These gentlemen and lady have a fine, discerning taste, and you cannot ruin their palates with eels! Milord, these fish were fresh-caught today, on my aunt's grave, and-"

"I don't think-" said the Doctor, but the eel-monger talked over him.

"There's not and never has been an Englishman or woman that would say no to a good bit of eel. It's practically the national dish, eaten here for centuries past! Buy my wares for patriotism, good sirs, good lady."

"Oh, that's a rough line," said the fish-seller, giving her competitor a jaundiced eye.

"We really don't-" began Zoe, but the eel-monger stopped her, waving a hand while staring straight at the fish-seller.

"I think it's fair," she said. "What's wrong with patriotism?"

"It just seems like a bit of a cheat, that's all," said the other, musing. "It's like- it's like, if they don't buy eels, they must be lousy foreigners."

"Aye, exactly. That's the point."

"I don't know. Maybe I'll try it out on the next mark, see how it feels."

Helpless, the Doctor glanced over at Jamie, who frowned, thinking.

"Fish!"

"Eels!"

"Oh no, it's starting again," sighed Zoe.

"Ladies," said Jamie, having an idea. "We don't have any money."

The pair of seafood-purveyors stopped immediately, gaping.

"Tease!" said the fish-seller, bustling away.

"Foreign bastards!" said the eel-monger, hurrying after her.

"Oh, thank you, Jamie," said the Doctor, mopping his brow.

"Och, don't mention it. But look, this must be England! London, even!"

"London again?" asked Zoe, looking a little excited. "I wonder what it's like when it's not filled with Cybermen."

"I suppose you'll find out," said the Doctor, looking around, then up at the sky. He blinked and shielded his eyes against the early-morning sun. "Quite early for England, and I don't just mean the hour," he continued, as he began to walk down the street alongside the docks. "A little before your time, I fancy, Jamie. Perhaps as much as a century or so."

"Oh, aye? I'm from the future now, then! Like you, Zoe."

"I suppose you are," said Zoe, "though you're fitting in much better than I am." She glanced between Jamie's kilt and vest and her own bright white raincoat.

"No, you don't understand," said Jamie, watching the Doctor talk to an elderly lady sitting on a stoop. "I finally know more than all these people! I know about things that haven't been discovered yet. Aye, and the names of people who haven't even been born."

"Really?" said Zoe, "and what will you do with that knowledge?"

"Oh, I don't know," said Jamie. "Lord it over them or such like."

Zoe was about to tell him what she thought of that plan when the Doctor turned back to them, clasping his hands together.

"Come on!"

"Where are we going, Doctor?" asked Zoe, as the three of them began to walk down a side-street, away from the docks.

"Why, the best place to go when you're in London in the seventeenth century." The Doctor paused, looking at them expectantly. They waited patiently, knowing from experience that whatever they guessed would turn out to be wrong - the Doctor liked to change the answer.

"A pub, of course! Do come along."

\---

The pub was smoky and ill-lit, and the Doctor exclaimed with delight when he entered. He immediately stepped up to the bar to converse with the barkeep, Zoe following behind. Jamie looked around, before walking determinedly toward a large table with only one occupant eating breakfast; a stark comparison to the small crowded areas with their rollicking companies who looked like they hadn't stopped drinking since the night before.

"Excuse me, sir," said Jamie, sitting down at the lone man's table, "but I don't suppose you'd like to hear of the future?"

Back at the bar, the Doctor was already deep in conversation with a man slumped over the counter, the barkeep having proved to be a bit too busy to put up with a stranger's prattle. The Doctor's replacement conversationalist was proving to be a poor substitute, however. His discourse was largely unintelligible, since he directed his words at the table, his face buried in the cradle of his arms. The Doctor had to expend quite a lot of energy in extracting meaning from the drunkard's mumbling.

"You say that people have been going missing? Oh dear. But surely men and women leave London every day?"

The man mumbled something else into the counter, which the Doctor and Zoe eventually decided meant that these disappearances weren't the normal sort of cases, the ones which involved debts or troubles in love.

"Talking to Zebediah, are you?" The barkeep came by again, carrying a tray of mugs for one of the tables that still had money. He stopped for a moment to lean in and whisper an aside at the Doctor's ear. "Poor man lost his son to the Mist three days ago, and hasn't been sober since."

"The Mist?" said Zoe. "Whatever can that be?"

"Oh, it might just be a coincidence, Lady, but the Mist is said to appear whenever someone disappears," said the barkeep, leaning back again. "Haven't seen it happen, myself. If you're curious, you should talk to Old Lady Heppy. She's the one who told me about the Mist in the first place. I'll come in my own time!" This last comment was to the increasingly raucous table with money, which had noticed that its drinks were apparently stationary.

"Poor Zeb. His son was a stout soldier, too, home on leave. Not even the King's men can go about their business unmolested, these days." The barkeep sighed and then ambled along to the moneyed table, careful not to seem like he was hurrying to satisfy his customers.

"I rather think we should look into this," said the Doctor, eyeing the mug of beer that he'd managed to barter in exchange for some string and a broken chew toy. "Mysterious disappearances are never a good thing." He picked up the mug and sipped at it cautiously, and then spat the ale delicately out again. "Uch. Watered down, and the glass may not have ever been cleaned. Where's Jamie?"

While the Doctor peered under the bar, as if Jamie might pop out from under the kegs, Zoe pursued the more reliable method of looking around the seating area. She spotted Jamie at once, and tugged on the Doctor's sleeve.

"I think you'll have to go and get him, Doctor."

"Why, what's wrong?" The Doctor turned around, only to see Jamie in conversation with a singularly sober pub inhabitant. "He's just enjoying a chat with that nice man over there, nothing to worry about."

"I don't know that that man looks nice at all. And Jamie looks very annoyed." As if to prove Zoe's point, Jamie suddenly slouched backwards, crossing his arms and kicking the table leg so that the other man had to steady the flimsy construction.

"Oh dear," said the Doctor. "Do you have any idea what they're talking about?"

"The future, probably," said Zoe. "You remember how excited Jamie was about having fore-knowledge of events."

"Well, we'll just have to butt in." The Doctor jumped down off his bar stool, abandoning his ale.

Jamie leant in again as the Doctor and Zoe approached the table.

"Fine," he said, "I can see that you're a little better informed than most. But I can tell you when His Majesty will die, aye, and who'll come after him. That's good, isn't it?"

"Charles will pass in 1685, I believe, succeeded by James of the many numerals." Jamie's companion sounded both amused and Irish, which was either a good sign or a very bad one. The Doctor stopped just as he was about to whisk Jamie away.

"You're not supposed to know that," he said, mildly. "Who are you?"

"This is my friend, the Doctor," said Jamie to his companion. "I was telling you about him."

"Aye, I know who he is," said the man. "And frankly, I'm hurt that he doesn't recognize me." It was said jokingly, but the bitter current of truth lurking behind the words made the Doctor take a closer look at the perhaps-not-a-stranger.

The man was on the later side of middle-aged, but still tall and dark, with a beard that was a bit too full and not nearly well-trimmed enough to be fashionable. His clothing and wig were of the same type - nearly up-to-date, but slightly too large and unkempt to look good. He was saved by his face and features, which were strong, made more striking by a rather overlarge hooked nose and clear blue eyes. Overall, the effect was to make him look rugged and tough, rather than simply dirty.

He also looked utterly unfamiliar, but then his face pulled into a smirk, and the Doctor had him.

"Oh, my. Well, you can't really blame me for not marking you at first glance, Ko-"

" _Colonel_ Thomas Blood, at your service." The Colonel stood up, bowing over Zoe's hand, and then shaking Jamie's when he also rose. "The Doctor and I know each other from long ago," he added, looking knowingly at Jamie's confused expression.

"Yes," said the Doctor, a little warily. "It's quite a coincidence, meeting you here."

"You've been to this time and place before?" asked Zoe, looking between the Doctor and the Colonel.

"Not that I recall," said the Doctor, "I'll explain later."

"Perhaps you should accompany me back to my residence," said the Colonel. "Unless you are otherwise engaged?"

"No, we're quite free," said the Doctor. "At least I think so."

"Still," said the Colonel, "better to speak where the ears can be trusted."

"What _are_ they talking about?" said Jamie, stooping down to mutter in Zoe's ear.

"I think it's code or something. It sounds as if they're worried about people overhearing them. Oh, here we go," she added, hurrying to follow as the Colonel strode out of the pub without paying his bill. The Doctor paused for a moment to drop some rubber ducks on the table to cover the tab, and then followed, steadfastly ignoring the barkeep's shouts.

This time, no merchants accosted them on the street, seeming to shy away from the Colonel's presence.

"I hope you haven't done anything to these poor people," said the Doctor, glancing at the Colonel, who laughed.

"Don't jump to conclusions. They just know it would be a waste of time to hawk their wares to me."

"Because you have no money, aye?" said Jamie, butting in. "That's how I got rid of a couple of these hagglers earlier."

"That's one strategy," said the Colonel, smiling at Jamie as the Doctor made a small face behind both of their backs. "So, my boy, would you care to tell me about yourself as we walk? I already know that you're not from around here, aye, and not this time neither."

"No, I'm not," said Jamie, grinning embarrassedly. "I'm right sorry about all of that bother earlier. If I'd known you were a friend of the Doctor's, I wouldn't have tried anything."

"I didn't say we were friends, Jamie," interjected the Doctor.

"No," agreed the Colonel, smiling at the Doctor. "We're much more than mere friends, aren't we, Doctor?" He turned away from the Doctor's frown, and back to Jamie. "You were saying, lad?"

"Well, the Doctor picked me up after battle with the red coats - he says about a century hence. I was a piper for Laird McLaren."

"A Scot, then! I fought with you fellows in the service of the Commonwealth during the war...aye, and in the pubs afterwards as well!"

"Aye, you don't say?" said Jamie, laughing.

"That's such an old joke," muttered the Doctor. "Please don't laugh at it, Jamie, it'll only encourage him."

Jamie ignored him, chattering away at the Colonel, who smiled and lifted a mocking eyebrow at the Doctor. Feeling a little neglected, the Doctor dropped back to talk to Zoe.

"Don't you be charmed by that man calling himself a Colonel," he said. "He's not all that he seems."

"I had gathered that," said Zoe. "You don’t seem very surprised to see him.”

“I’m surprised to see him here,” said the Doctor. “But not necessarily startled to see him at all. Sometimes people turn up in odd places.”

“I see,” said Zoe, though she didn’t. “You will tell me about it?"

"Of course, of course, but I need to talk to him privately before I can give you the whole story in good conscience." The Doctor paused, staring moodily at Jamie and the Colonel speaking animatedly to each other, probably about him. "Oh, let's talk about something else."

"Fine," said Zoe. "Why don't you help me figure out how to explain my strange dress to people?"

"Hm? What's wrong with your clothes?"

"Well, it's not at all what people are wearing here and now," said Zoe. She fiddled with the large zippers on her black leather gloves, frowning. "I suppose I can change, if Colonel Blood has any women's clothing."

"Whyever would he have women's clothing, Zoe? I do hope you're not suggesting anything."

"I meant he might have a sister or a wife," said Zoe.

"Oh, no, not a wife. Not Ko- I mean, not the Colonel."

"Also, I think you're being a bit defensive, Doctor. There's nothing wrong with Colonel Blood choosing to wear women's things, if he likes."

"Yes, yes," said the Doctor. "What was your question again?"

"What shall I tell people when they ask me about my dress? Everyone's staring." Zoe looked uneasily around the street.

"Just do what I do when someone gives me a hard time," said the Doctor.

"Insult them in a very passive-aggressive way? I do wish you wouldn't do that, Doctor, it keeps getting us into trouble."

"I don't know what you're talking about," said the Doctor. "Anyway, just tell them you're from a sideshow. You can juggle, can't you?"

"I suppose. It's just coordination and spatial awareness, isn't it?"

"It's rather more complicated than that, Zoe - ah, we're here."

Here was a somewhat suspicious looking building, with cracked windowpanes, curtains blocking the view into the inside, and a new, heavy-looking door on shining hinges. The Colonel rapped on the door in a complicated rhythm.

"...two pence," said the Doctor, quietly, when the Colonel paused. "Oh dear, he's being anachronistic. That will never do."

His hypocrisy did not immediately tumble him over, and the Doctor watched as the door opened just enough to admit the Colonel and then, after a pause, widened to allow the rest of them to enter.

Inside was dark, sealed off as it was from the light of the outside. Only a few candles illuminated the rooms and the face of the tall woman with unruly blonde hair who had opened the door.

"Allow me to introduce Miss Jenny Blaine," said the Colonel, taking off his cloak and hanging it upon a hook near the door. "Jenny, the Doctor, Jamie, and- I'm sorry, my dear, I never managed to catch your name."

"Oh, that's Zoe," said the Doctor. "And what is your role here, Jenny?"

"I'm sorry?" she said, glancing at the Colonel.

"Don't be rude, Doctor, she's merely a business associate."

"And what sort of business would that be?" the Doctor pressed.

"I see that you won't be put off for a moment longer," sighed the Colonel. "Perhaps if you can just be patient, we can take care of your young friends before we go upstairs. Jenny, if you wouldn't mind, there's refreshment in the kitchen."

"I guess," said Jenny, openly staring at the Doctor. "Anything else I need to know?"

"No, just entertain these young people and make sure no one disturbs us. Thank you, Jenny."

She nodded, and then turned and walked into the front room. Jamie and Zoe followed her willingly enough, and the Doctor and the Colonel walked up the steps to a closed room, which the Colonel opened with a key on a chain around his neck.

Once open, the door revealed a spare bedroom, with nothing marking it as lived in or used. The Doctor paused to reflect that his friend hadn't been staying there long before starting in on his questions.

"What are you doing here, Koschei? Last I knew, you were still wasting your time on Gallifrey. Mission for the CIA, is it?"

"You can't even wait for me to close the door," complained Koschei, doing just that.

"Anyway, I don't know why I should explain anything to you, when you obviously couldn't be bothered to care before. The CIA indeed - I haven't worked for them in nearly a century." He switched easily from English to Gallifreyan, his Irish accent melting away into the accents of his youth. The Doctor ignored the shift and continued speaking in the pidgin of English and Gallifreyan he always used.

"Yes, well. I thought you were fine. And I've been busy."

"Busy wandering around with a pair of aliens young enough to be your great-grandchildren, from what I can tell," said Koschei.

"I'm on the run!"

"Messing around with history isn't the best way to avoid the authority's attentions, Theta. I should know."

"Is that why you're here?" said the Doctor, quietly.

"Yes," said Koschei, walking over to a desk and sitting down. "I've been exiled."

"Oh, I am sorry, Koschei. I didn't know."

"Obviously," said Koschei. "I've been here for nearly twenty-five years. I'd decided you either didn't care or didn't know. Both, probably."

"Don't be like that," said the Doctor. He looked around, and then, for lack of another chair, sat on the bed. "I haven't heard any news from Gallifrey since I left with Susan."

"Yes, how is she?"

"I'm sure she's fine," said the Doctor, and changed the subject. "Tell me how you were exiled."

"I was caught making unauthorized trips to primitive worlds, interacting with the natives. Nothing egregious, but the CIA already had their suspicions about some of my," Koschei coughed, "more experimental activities, especially after I left their employ. The Council seized the opportunity to eliminate a potential threat to the status quo. My House fought for me, but you know how intractable the justice system is. Forcible regeneration, my brain altered to severely diminish my mental capabilities. Then they exiled me here without a TARDIS. No space travel yet, so no chance of escape, or so they reasoned." Koschei looked away from the Doctor, turning to his desk and removing his wig, revealing fine black hair growing back from being shaved. He put the wig on a stand, arranging it more neatly than the shabby creation really deserved.

"Well," said the Doctor, "I suppose it was bound to happen eventually. We both had too much interest in xenosociology for the comfort of our peers."

"I was looking for you, you dolt," said Koschei, with more tiredness than anger. "I was tracking your TARDIS, trying to catch up. I worried about _you_ after a few decades, but I couldn't have cared less for the aliens I had to question in order to find you."

"Oh, I am sorry, Koschei," said the Doctor. He stared for a moment at the back of his friend's head, and then gave into temptation and stood up, stepping close to stroke the soft, short hair. It was meant more as a comfort than anything else, and it seemed to work. Koschei leaned into the motion, some of the tension going out of his frame.

"I didn’t mean to cause you such trouble," said the Doctor.

"You never do,” said Koschei, and twisted around in his chair. He pulled the Doctor's head down and kissed him, gently at first, and then hard and desperate. The Doctor held still, not pulling away, but not pushing back, either.

“What’s wrong?” said Koschei, at last.

“I just don’t really know you anymore,” said the Doctor, carefully. “It’s been a long time. And I didn’t leave under the best of circumstances.”

“Surely that’s all forgotten now,” said Koschei. “How long can you hold on to a grudge?”

“That’s not the issue,” protested the Doctor.

“Reunion after decades of separation, and all you can think about is fights we had years ago. Absolutely typical.”

“You’re twisting my words,” said the Doctor. “I was simply trying to point out that we can’t just kiss and make up.”

“Why not?” said Koschei. “That’s what we always did before.”

“You haven’t changed at all, have you?” The Doctor shook his head, smiling. “The same silly Koschei.”

“Please don’t call me-“ The Doctor kissed Koschei back, lightly.

“Never mind. You can call me whatever you like,” said Koschei, and leaned in again.

\---

Downstairs, Jamie and Zoe were poking at plates of eels.

"Did you eat these back in your time, Jamie?" said Zoe, finally getting a particularly sproingy piece on to her knife.

"Not really. My gran always tried to get me to eat them, but I thought they were disgusting. And they are, too." Jamie tried a bit, and made a face.

"I suppose I should be offended," said Jenny, "but I'm not. I've never liked eels."

"Why did you buy them, then?" said Jamie.

"Some merchant told me it was unpatriotic not to." Jenny shrugged. "Still, shouldn't waste food. Big day today." She started to chew.

"What's happening?" said Zoe.

"I'm not sure if I should tell you." Jenny's voice was muffled. Chewing appeared to be difficult. Jamie and Zoe surreptitiously pushed their plates away.

"Oh, go on," said Jamie. "We're friends of the Doctor, who's friends with yon Colonel. Practically mates, aren't we?"

Jenny smiled at him, and swallowed, throat working to get the eel down. She coughed, covering her mouth with her fist. Finally, she recovered, and went back to smiling.

"Don't tell anyone," she said, "but we're going to steal the crown jewels."

Jamie and Zoe looked at each other.

"What, from the King?" said Jamie.

\---

After a while, Koschei pushed the Doctor away from him and pulled off his coat, laying it across the back of his chair.

"Do you really think we have time for that?" asked the Doctor. He started to take off his own coat. Koschei laughed.

"Don't get excited," he said. "I just need to get changed. I have an engagement this morning."

"Really," said the Doctor, not even trying to conceal his disappointment. "Why can't you just put it off?"

"My dear, it's important. I can't just drop everything because you've finally turned up."

"Hmph. What is this engagement, then?"

"Doctor, in my time here, I have been many things." Koschei began to undo the buttons on his black, woolen vest.

"Is this really necessary?"

"I've been stuck on Earth for twenty-five years while you've been gallivanting around the universe. Indulge me."

"Sorry."

"As I was saying, I have been many things. For a time, I was a well-respected commander in Cromwell's army, then a landowner under the rule of parliament. After the crown regained power, I was forced into a life of infamy and deceit."

"Oh, forced, were you?"

"Yes," said Koschei, pulling off his vest. "In a daring raid against the supporters of the crown, I attempted the kidnap of the Lord Lieutenant of Ireland to be held for ransom. The adventure would have surely succeeded if not for treachery that betrayed us revolutionaries to the government. I became once more an outlaw, my lands confiscated, a price on my head. I lived in hiding for years, only emerging once to rescue a fellow rebel."

"What did you do while you were in hiding?" asked the Doctor, an edge of curiosity showing through his air of disinterest.

"Practiced medicine, as it happens," said Koschei. His words were a little muffled as he pulled his shirt off over his head.

"Eventually I was reminded of the blow to my honor dealt by the failure of my plot to kidnap the Lord Lieutenant, the Duke of Ormonde, and so I sought to kidnap him once more." Koschei sat down and began to pull of his boots.

"If at first you don't succeed, try, try again," said the Doctor. Koschei looked at him oddly.

"Yes. Unfortunately I was once again foiled, this time after I had won his capture and was en route to the gallows, there to hang the unlucky duke." Koschei peeled off his hose and started on his breeches. "Once more I escaped, to be with you today. And I have another great adventure in mind, one which will shake the monarchy to its core." He stood up and shucked his breeches, standing naked. "Are you listening, Doctor?"

"Yes, yes," said the Doctor. "Kidnapping, attempted murder, great adventure. I was just thinking that we could have been doing something much more fun in the time it took for you to explain all that."

"Perhaps later," Koschei promised. "As I said, I have something important to do tonight."

"Yes, and I asked what that was, and you still haven't explained. I know you're just dying to tell me."

Koschei turned away and opened the wardrobe, and the Doctor was immediately distracted again.

"I intend," said Koschei, drawing a long black robe from its hook, "to steal the crown jewels."

\---

"What are you going to do with the jewels, if you get them?" asked Jamie.

"Sell them, I expect. Not in England, but there are bankers in France and Spain that'd give you a good price, and we'll get across the channel, no problem." Jenny beamed at the both of them, looking altogether unlike a dastardly criminal.

"Well, it's a grand scheme, no doubt of that," allowed Jamie.

"I hope no one's hurt in the course of this 'grand scheme,'" said Zoe, but her attention was elsewhere. She was looking between her own raincoat and Jenny's understandably more period clothing. "Jenny, you wouldn't have an extra dress or something I can borrow?"

"Maybe," said Jenny, looking Zoe up and down. "You shouldn't go out like that, for sure. Just come from an entertainment or something?"

"A sideshow," said Zoe, firmly. "Anything you can spare would probably be better."

"You can have my other dress," Jenny decided. "It's very nearly clean."  
The two women walked out of the room together, leaving Jamie to stare morosely at his eel.

"Ah, being from the future hasn't done me any good tonight, has it?" he said. "The Doctor's upstairs with yon Colonel, Zoe's getting dressed up, and it's just you and me now. I haven't even impressed anyone."

The eel said nothing, but somebody knocked on the door in the same pattern the Colonel had used earlier. Jamie stood up, startled.

"Jenny, should I open the door?"

"No, wait a moment!" called Jenny, coming back to the front room. "No one knows who you are." She paused, brushing her hair back in a way that made it even more tangled, and opened the door. "Thomas!" she said, smiling widely for a moment before her face fell. "Oh, it's you two."

"Sorry, love," said one of the new men. "Your boy won't be along for a few minutes yet, as he's tending the horses. I see you've got a new lad, though."

"He's not mine," sniffed Jenny. "He's a friend of the Colonel's." She stepped back to let the two men into the house. "Jamie, this is Richard Halliwell, and the quiet one is Robert Perrott."

"I didn't think Blood had any friends I didn't know about," said Halliwell. "Hallo, boy."  
Both of the men were rough, a little more so than the Colonel. Halliwell was slighter and redder, with a fleeting grin. Perrott was tall and lean, with an awkward leer fixed permanently on his face.

"Jamie's not all, Halliwell. There's a girl, too, Zoe, and some man called the Doctor."

"Eh? Probably something Blood's got cooking then. Well, I need to talk to him." Halliwell started up the stairs, Perrott shadowing him.

"I wouldn't if I were you," said Jenny. "The Colonel didn't want to be disturbed."

"I wasn't here then, was I? And stop calling him that, that's just a rank he made up for himself because lieutenant in Cromwell's army wasn't good enough. I never tried to advance myself in people's esteem, even though I was only a cornet. No, and I don't even go around telling people I was that, neither."

"Well, I wouldn't either, if I had been a trumpet," sniggered Perrott.

"Shut up," said Halliwell, swinging an arm to cuff Perrott's head. The ensuing blows tumbled them both off the stairs, where they lay, Halliwell complaining, Perrott sniggering some more.

"I just go to change into some era-appropriate clothing, and the whole place falls down," said Zoe, peering back into the front room.

\---

"This is ridiculous," said the Doctor. "You're just going to get caught."

"My plan is perfect," said Koschei, bristling a little. His affected ease was rapidly diminishing. Unfortunately he still hadn't gotten dressed, and the Doctor had always thought Koschei was a bit of alright when he was annoyed.

"All I'm saying- all I'm saying _is_ that you seem to be oh for two in terms of your grand schemes so far. That whole business with the Duke of Ormonde that you were talking about." The Doctor smiled as Koschei turned red and swirled around, still clutching his new clothing but not yet moving to put it on.

"That would have worked at the first if I had not been betrayed," he hissed. "Every detail had been described to perfection."

"Oh yes?" said the Doctor, goading him. "I suppose you expected that the guards would have just melted away, allowing you to snatch the Duke without a fight."

"I had planned for that," said Koschei, triumphantly. "The guards would have been distracted by an associate posing as a clumsy baker, who had spilled his burden of bread!"

"Bread? You've gone stir-crazy. You've lost your senses."

"I have done no such thing! I've studied this period, Doctor, lived in it for decades. I know that those unfortunate enough not to have been born in the echelons of privilege are malnourished and hungry. They would have scrambled for the delicious, fresh-baked loaves!"

The Doctor really couldn't bring himself to say anything. Koschei ranted on into his silence.

"This is set to succeed, Doctor! No one will give us away this time. The jewels are only protected by a near octogenarian, whom I have lulled with gifts of gloves and promises that my nephew will marry his daughter."

"Gloves?" said the Doctor, weakly. "And your nephews aren't even on this planet."

"It was a ruse," said Koschei. "I wouldn't expect you to understand. You never did care about my hobbies."

The Doctor covered his eyes with both hands, scrubbing wearily at his face.

"Let's not retread that old argument again. Tell me, aren't there any weapons to defend the jewels? Even an elderly Human can do a lot of damage with the right tools, trust me."

"There were pistols," agreed Koschei, but a triumphant light was shining in his eyes. "But I have bought them. Nothing will stop my theft!"

"You did what?" The Doctor stared as Koschei finally pulled his new clothing over his head. "I can't believe this. Oh, and what's this?" He pulled an exaggerated double-take as Koschei let his hem fall to the floor. "My dear, I told Zoe that I was sure you wouldn't start wearing women's clothing, and now look at you."

"This isn't a dress, Doctor. This is a cassock; a clergyman's robe."

"Well, dressing up as a priest is nearly as bad. You're not even wearing anything underneath. What are you doing?" The Doctor had to admit, black did suit Koschei, but _really_.

"The lack of underwear was intended to be an enticement to _someone_ , but I've gone off the idea, somehow," said Koschei. "In any case, this is my disguise. I've been pretending to be a reverend, with Jenny posing as my wife." He turned back to the closet, plucking out a black cap with ears that matched his spartan, dusty-black robe.

"How could anyone believe you were married?"

"Quite easily, Doctor." Koschei pulled on short socks and slipped on a pair of shoes. He seemed to be getting a little calmer, but just then someone knocked on the door. "Go away!" he snapped, not even bothering to switch to English. The knocking stopped regardless.

"Look, why do you even want the crown jewels?" asked the Doctor.

"They'll buy me safe passage off this rock," sniffed Koschei. "Some tourists will pay a lot for a piece of quaint native craftwork, and they might pick up a hitchhiker as part of the bargain for a particularly storied piece."

"But, if that's all." The Doctor raised his eyebrows. "Why not just give it up and come away with me?"

"It had occurred to me," said Koschei. "But it seems like such a waste of a good plan..." he hesitated, straightening his hat and combing his fingers through his beard.

"Don't you see that it's for the best? Oh, you might have people fooled for now, Koschei, but it'll all fall apart, just you wait. You'll be found out - you're not a priest-"

"Reverend," muttered Koschei.

"-Or a married man or any of it. Stop embarrassing yourself."

Koschei scowled, but the Doctor could see that he was cowed. Then a knock came at the door again, and Koschei yanked it open, forcefully.

"Oh," said a young man, his hand still raised to knock. "Um. Are you ready, Father?"


	2. Chapter 2

The Doctor's face went through several expressions at once. Koschei and the young man eyed him with trepidation.

"Father?" said the Doctor at last, quite calmly.

"Doctor, this is Thomas. Thomas, the Doctor." Koschei said in English, and then hurried down the stairs, the better to avoid the explosion.

“The Doctor? This is unexpected.” Thomas’ cheek twitched, and then his face went blank as he looked the Doctor up and down. “It’s really you?”

“Yes,” said the Doctor.

"You've finally turned up then!" said Thomas. His expression settled into a nervous smirk that was worryingly familiar to the Doctor. "Oh, I'm sorry; I didn't mean to be rude. Only Father's been telling us children about you for as long as I can remember."

"Children," said the Doctor.

"Oh, yes," said Thomas. He certainly looked like Koschei's current regeneration, except for his normally sized nose. His clothing and wig were much newer, and he was clean-shaven, but otherwise he could have been the Time Lord's younger double. He was also frowning as the silence stretched on.

"I say, I haven't ruined his chances with you, have I? He'd be ever so upset. Listen, if it makes you feel better, it's even odds that I'm the apothecary's son."

"Stop telling people that!" called Koschei, from the bottom of the stairs.

"I'm only trying to help," said Thomas, walking down a few steps.

"How many of you... children are there?" said the Doctor, following him.

"Seven, including me. I'm the oldest, of course, twenty this year, and already plying an honest trade."

"Pah," said Koschei, looking as severe as a preacher, which, admittedly, was a part he was aptly dressed to play. "It's highway robbery, that’s the truth of it. No art in it at all."

"Don't be so harsh," said the Doctor, automatically siding with Thomas. "What is it you do, my boy?"

"Oh, highway robbery, like Father said. He doesn’t like how spontaneous and noncomplex it is." Thomas' tone had the feel of someone who had long wearied of these arguments. "I find that one's parents always disapprove of what you do, no matter your calling."

"It's a waste of your talents," huffed Koschei, but he too looked unwilling to reopen a sore topic. "We're ready to go, then?"

“Hold on a moment,” said the Doctor. “You’re just going to leave? We don’t even get to discuss the fact that you have been hiding a wife and seven children from me? You do _have_ a wife, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do, and not exactly hiding,” said Koschei. “Anyway, I’m on a schedule.”

“What do you mean, ‘not exactly’?”

“It just didn’t happen to come up,” said Koschei, looking away.

“I’m not surprised he didn’t mention it,” said Thomas, smirking again. “It isn’t the first thing you say to your old beau when he comes back from space, is it? ‘By the way, you’ll never guess what’s happened since I saw you last.’ Yes, I can just see Father pushing forward with that conversation.”

“What _have_ you been telling this boy about me?” asked the Doctor, eyeing Thomas.

“Can’t we talk about this later?” said Koschei. “I’m a little busy right now. Busy preparing to steal the crown jewels? You recall?”

The Doctor did recall. Putting aside his questions about Koschei’s new-found parenthood, he fell back into his previous position as arbiter of good sense.

"Koschei, you can't mean to go through with this."

"I can and I will, and I'll ask you not to call me that in public. Anyway, how could I abandon _my_ compatriots to complete _my_ scheme without _my_ help?" The Colonel waved his arms to encompass Halliwell, Perrott, and Jenny, who had all gotten up from the table to join the conversation at the bottom of the staircase.

"What's going on, Doctor?" called Jamie, still sitting in the kitchen.

"I think we're leaving," said the Doctor slowly. "If you won't be dissuaded, Ko- Colonel, then I won't bother hanging around."

The Colonel folded his arms, and nodded. A look of regret crossed his face, but vanished quickly.

"Oh, can we not go with them, Doctor?" asked Jamie. "It sounds a grand lark, and it's for a crown, after all."

"You can come if you wish," said the Colonel. "We've room for a stout lad like you, and I'm sure the Doctor will wait for you. Won't you?" The other question remained unspoken - will you wait for me?

"I suppose," said the Doctor, and Jamie beamed.

"To horse, then," growled the Colonel. "We can't hang around and bother the Doctor any longer." He swept away to the door, pulling his cloak down from beside the door as he went. The rest of the men filed out behind him, Thomas giving the Doctor a wink.

"We'll be back soon enough. More than enough time for you and Father to 'catch up,' I'm sure." He grinned, and then started as Jenny caught him about the waist.

"Thomas, let me come and help. I hate to send you out alone into terrible danger."

"I'll be fine," said Thomas. "Anyway, you may be a good actress, but you're lousy with a sword or a pistol. We'll bring you your share of the loot."

"Return quickly, then, dearheart," said Jenny, pouting. "I'll wait for you!"

"Um, aye," said Thomas, detaching himself and hurrying away.

"Bye, Doctor," said Jamie, as, anxious not to be left behind, he practically trod on Thomas' heels.

"Fine," complained the Doctor, once he'd shut the door. "Leave me here all alone, with only a lovesick girl for company."

"I'm not lovesick," said Jenny. "He's just very good-looking, and Halliwell told me he likes a clingy woman."

"I'm still here," said Zoe, annoyed.

"I'm sorry, Zoe, I thought you'd gone as well," said the Doctor. "Found new clothes, have you? The dress looks very nice."

"Thank you, Doctor. I've decided to stay and help you with your investigation."

"Investigation? Investigation of what?"

"The disappearances, remember?"

"Oh! Oh, yes, thank you, Zoe. That was why I stayed, of course." The Doctor contrived to look as if he had known all along, and Zoe pretended to believe him.

"I can help," said Jenny. "I know nearly everyone in London, and I'll be bored to tears just sitting here."

"Thank you," said Zoe. "Do you know Old Lady Heppy? We've been told that she knows something about the people going missing."

"No," said Jenny. "Doesn't ring a bell." She got a cloak and opened the door.

"I thought you said you knew everyone in London," said the Doctor, following her outside.

"'Course not, London's huge. You can't know everyone. But I bet I know someone who knows this Heppy. Come on, we'll go to the King's Head."

\---

The King's Head was a slightly more genteel pub than the one they had been in earlier. It had more windows, and a few attempts at color were splashed haphazardly across the walls. On the other hand, there were already people drinking in the early morning, so perhaps it wasn't that different from other pubs after all. The Doctor and Zoe sat down at a table and waited while Jenny bustled around, trying to get information.

"So," said Zoe, "you said you would tell me how you came to know the Colonel."

"Did I?" said the Doctor, vaguely. "Well, perhaps now is not the time."

"When will be the time, then? When we're safely away in the TARDIS and I've completely forgotten about the whole affair?"

The Doctor looked at her sharply, frowning.

"Oh, please, Doctor. I think it's important that I know exactly what's going on."

"All right." The words dragged reluctantly out of the Doctor. "The Colonel, as you call him, is a very, very old acquaintance from back home. We were at school together."

"At school?" Zoe raised her eyebrows.

"Yes, at school." The Doctor ignored the implied question. "We were in the same year, though I was a little older, and we graduated together. Drifted apart in the end, unfortunately."

"That can't be the whole story, surely," said Zoe.

"What do you mean?" The Doctor tried to sound unconcerned, but mostly just looked defensive.

"Well, for one thing, the way the Colonel looks at you doesn't quite fit your picture of 'just friends.'"

"Why do you keep calling him the Colonel?" said the Doctor. "It sounds ridiculous."

"More so than calling someone 'the Doctor?'" Zoe looked at the Doctor, who said nothing. "No, I thought not. Anyway, it's none of my business to pry, but I hope you're not trying to delude yourself as well."

"No" said the Doctor, sighing. "No, you're quite right. We were- well, we _were_ , pure and simple. Simple, anyway."

"What happened?" asked Zoe, after the Doctor had sat for a moment, staring into space.

"This and that," said the Doctor. "Koschei - the Colonel, to you - did some things I didn't approve of, and then I fell in with a bad crowd. In the end, I was forced to leave home or be arrested, and Koschei stayed behind. I thought that was an end to it, but it seems that he followed me, at the last." The Doctor smiled, suddenly. "I suppose I'm happy about that, even if he's still doing things I don't approve of. And hiding things so that I don’t get to decide whether they approve of them or not." The Doctor’s smile faded slowly into a frown as he thought, but then his cheerfulness reasserted himself. “Anyway, I’m sure we’ll have time to sort all of that out later.”

"Good," said Zoe. "Oh, thank you for trusting me, Doctor. I realize that this is all private."

"It's fine," said the Doctor. "Ah, and Jenny seems to have achieved a measure of success. How did it go, my girl?"

"Well, I've got you an address," said Jenny, looking doubtful. "But I don't know if it will do you any good. From what I hear tell, Heppy's a few pence short of a shilling."

"Don't be too quick to judge on rumor," said the Doctor, standing up. "Anyway, she's our only lead. Let’s go."

\---

"I suppose you're wondering how I came to know the Doctor," said the Colonel, smiling conspiratorially at Jamie. They were all walking to the tower, the horses left at a convenient spot with a boy paid to watch them. Jamie, Thomas, and the Colonel were in front, with Perrott and Halliwell lurking along at the back.

"Not really," said Jamie. "The Doctor knows a lot of people."

"Aye, sure," said the Colonel. "But I'd wager I know him a damn sight better."

Jamie looked at him oddly.

"Like I said, the Doctor knows a lot of people."

"What do you mean, know?" said the Colonel, suspicious. He raised his eyebrows in a way that completely failed to convey anything to Jamie.

"Oh, I don't know," said Jamie. "You've got me all confused."

"Jamie, let me see if I can explain." Thomas broke in. "Father means that he and the Doctor used to be very close." He raised his eyebrows as well and then, not to be outdone by the Colonel, waggled them.

"Oh!" said Jamie, finally understanding. "Like me and the Doctor now!"

"What?" said the Colonel. "Surely not- not with-"

"Aye, and Zoe, too," continued Jamie, oblivious to the reaction he was causing. The Colonel blanched.

"Two of you? _Two_?"

"Well, it used to be three, but then Ben and Polly left. Then there was Victoria, but she decided to stay behind after a while as well. Tired of it all, I suppose."

"Active lives you lead, eh?" muttered the Colonel, venomously, his hands twitching. "Busy nights?"

"I suppose," mused Jamie. "Days as well. It never stops with the Doctor." He started to say something else, but Thomas clapped a hand over his mouth, looking worriedly at the Colonel.

"Fine," said the Colonel. "Fine. I was a fool to expect anything else from that- that traitor. I understand now why he was so _reluctant_ earlier. Replace me, will he?"

"It's not as if you've been practicing total celibacy yourself, Father," murmured Thomas, his hand still clamped over Jamie's mouth as they continued to walk down the street.

"There's a difference between marrying one human woman while you're trapped on Earth compared to running a traveling harem," growled the Colonel. "Not that I regret marrying your mother, of course," he added hurriedly, not looking Thomas in the eye. "Well. It doesn't matter, not at this point. Let the boy go, Thomas."

"Hold on," said Jamie, as soon as he could be heard again. He blushed, a little. "I think you've got the wrong end of the stick here-"

"Shh." Thomas held a finger to his lips, and then grimaced and wiped his hand off on his breeches. "Why'd you have to slobber all over me?"

"I was trying to tell you something, listen-"

"I think you've said quite enough. Anyway, look, we're here."

The Tower of London rose upwards before them, looming larger with every step they took toward it. Its off-white walls shone dully in the bright sunlight. The Colonel walked through the open gate, and then through another gate into the main courtyard, leading the group to one of the interior towers, a blocky structure set in the far right corner.

"Everybody be calm," he said quietly. "Act civilized and courteous, aye, even you, Halliwell. Remember, you're friends of a nice reverend, here to witness the first meeting between my nephew," he clapped Thomas on the shoulder, squeezing briefly as he continued, "and the daughter of the keeper of the crown jewels."

"No problem," said Halliwell. "We can act all lordly. Just stick your little finger out, right?" He did so, to demonstrate. Perrott sniggered, and contributed his own fingers.  
"Wrong ones, Rob. That's not half rude," said Halliwell, grinning, and the Colonel covered his eyes.

"Actually, why don't we separate you two? Halliwell, you stay and keep watch. The rest of you, with me. And for God's sake, be polite, Perrott." The Colonel turned and climbed up the steps to the top level of the tower, gesturing at the rest of them to follow. Then he drew his hand up and knocked on the door, three quick raps, no secret codes this time.

\---

The Doctor sat back and ran a hand over his face, tiredly. His chair, at least, was comfortable. Indeed, the whole house in which they had found Heppy was comfortable. The conversation, unfortunately, was not. After prolonged exposure to Old Lady Heppy, even the Doctor was forced to admit that the rumors had been broadly true. There was nothing obviously abnormal about her, but something was certainly a little off. On balance, it was as if someone had taken an average human's thoughts, stirred them up, and then tried to shake them out all at once.

Her appearance didn't quite fit either, though it could have been the normal displacement of a person fallen on hard times. Despite her moniker, Old Lady Heppy was quite young, with dark, ragged hair that looked as if it had been growing out from a shorter cut. Her clothing seemed normal, if more carefully scrubbed than most, except for a long woolen coat that was much too large to fit men's fashion, and wasn't part of women's fashion at all. Her face was also unusually clean, and somewhat unfocused, much like her conversation.

"We just want to know about the disappeared soldiers," the Doctor tried to explain, for about the fifth time.

"My dad was a soldier, said Heppy, tapping her nose thoughtfully. "Killed fighting off the Huns."

"Yes," said Zoe, "but what about the recent soldiers?"

"Not real soldiers, not really," sniffed Heppy. "Haven't seen the wars. Well, some wars, but not the kind that you got in my time."

"You're not that old," said Jenny, curiously. "My age, aren't you? What kind of wars did they have in 'your time' that I haven't seen?"

Heppy hesitated, looking confused, and the Doctor jumped in.

"You said your father fought the Huns, my dear. Was that a figure of speech?"

"No-o," said Heppy. "Well, sort of. It was the Germans, do you see? He was fighting the Germans, and I'd snuck into the nursing corps. I wasn't old enough, not really."

"When was this?" asked the Doctor. His gaze had sharpened, and he sounded as if he was on the verge of realizing something. "When did the war begin?"

"'14," said Heppy. "Dad volunteered right away, and I joined in '15."

"It's '71 now," said Jenny. "You can't possibly be that old. You're what, twenty?"

"Twenty-one," said Heppy.

"Oh, Doctor, I think I see," said Zoe. The Doctor nodded.

"Yes, Zoe. Heppy, can you give me the exact year you were born?"

"1897. A good year, I thought. I was born on the old Queen's birthday." Heppy shook off her confusion and fell back into a comfortable bask in reflected glory.

"That's impossible," said Jenny.

"By no means," said the Doctor. "But it is very strange." He turned back to Heppy. "How did you get here?"

"I- I don't quite know." The confusion was back, and Heppy hurriedly tried to get away from it. "I've been living here in this house for a week though, isn't it nice? I just kept hanging around until the woman who owns it let me stay, and I only had to threaten her a little bit-"

"Heppy." The Doctor interrupted her gently. "What can you remember? What's the first thing you remember after you came here?"

"The Mist." Heppy was certain here, and some strength returned to her voice. "There was a box, a green one, and Mist, and some soldiers. I think I was _in_ the box, but then I ran out, and all of it went away, and I was alone."

"What happened then?" asked Zoe.

"Some people came, and asked why the Army barracks were empty, and I said I didn't know. Then they sent me away."

"That must have been when the soldiers disappeared," muttered the Doctor. "How many went missing?"

"Every soldier in London," said Jenny. "But it was only the men who weren't in Ireland and so on, or campaigning on the continent. Not too many."

"Still, it leaves the capitol defenseless," pointed out the Doctor. “Someone might just show up and take over, mightn’t they?”

"No, there's still the navy," retorted Jenny. "They won't let anyone within striking distance of home."

"Perhaps whoever took the soldiers will come for the sailors next," said Zoe, and the Doctor sprang up.

"You're right. We must go to the Royal Navy barracks, at once."

"I'll show you the way," said Jenny, moving to leave.

"Heppy, do you want to come with us?" asked Zoe. "This isn't your time."

"No, I suppose it isn't," agreed Heppy, a light of understanding glimmering in her eyes. "But I think my time wasn't much better than this one. Less mud and blood here, if not by much. Go solve the mystery on your own."

The lines in her face deepened and her eyes seemed to sink. For a moment, it was easy to see why people called her Old Lady despite her youth. Then the lines vanished, and Heppy smiled, guilelessly.

"I always liked mysteries. Holmes, and Poe, and dear old Wilkie Collins."

"Come on, Zoe," said Jenny, out the door with the Doctor following her.

"Goodbye, Heppy. Good luck," Zoe started to turn away, and Heppy took her hand, stopping her.

"Thanks, kid. Be careful out there." She let go, smiling, a young woman in a coat that wouldn't be standard issue for another two hundred and fifty years.

\---

The door was opened by a stooped old man, his face splitting with a toothless smile.

"Reverend, my dear friend! And which of these young men is your nephew?"

"Edwards, meet my nephew Tom," said the Colonel, pushing Thomas forward to shake Edwards' hand. "He's very excited to meet your lovely daughter. Aren't you?"

"Yes, very excited indeed," said Thomas, offering Edwards a gentle smile of his own.

"Well, I'm afraid you're going to have to wait a little while," said Edwards regretfully. "The ladies are still getting ready. I told my wife to be up bright and early, but you know how women are."

"What can you do?" said the Colonel.

They stood in uncomfortable silence for a moment, Edwards apparently not thinking to invite them in.

"I know," said the Colonel, abruptly. "Why don't you show my nephew and his friends the Jewels? They're a grand sight, and I'm sure they'd love to see them."

"Oh, aye," said Edwards. "I'm sure they would."

They stood for a moment longer, Edwards not moving at all.

"We have your usual fee, of course," said the Colonel, sounding a little exasperated.

"Oh, you shouldn't have," said Edwards, holding his hand out. He watched as the Colonel counted coins into it, then closed his fist tightly around the weight and stepped back, allowing the group into the Tower. "Right this way, gentlemen." He led the way to a stone staircase that stood apart from the living area and began to climb down the steps. Thomas rolled his eyes and began to untie his cloak from around his neck.

"Well, here we are," said Edwards, when they were in the basement. "The crown- hey!" Thomas swept his cloak over the old man's head, while Perrott stuffed a block of wood into Edwards' open mouth.

"He won't be able to breathe!" exclaimed Jamie.

"Don't worry," said the Colonel. "There's an air hole in the wood. I think of everything. Stop struggling," he said, turning his attention to the thrashing Edwards. "There's no one to hear you. We won't harm you if you just lie still."

Edwards ignored him, trying to get free of Thomas and Perrott, who were now having trouble keeping him from throwing off the cloak and wood. Finally, the Colonel sighed, turning away.

"Take care of him."

Thomas nodded, producing a wooden mallet from his belt. He bashed Edwards over the head, sending the old man to his knees. Jamie stood, shocked and frozen, as Thomas raised the mallet for another strike.

"Don't kill him," called the Colonel, over his shoulder. "We don't need the authorities chasing after murderers on top of thieves."

"Take all the fun out of it, why don't you," said Thomas, laughing. He put the mallet away before kicking Edwards to the ground.

"Stop it," said Jamie, finally coming to his senses. "I thought you were-"

"What," said Thomas, looking nasty. "A gentleman robber? This isn't a story, Jamie. People get hurt."

Edwards was writhing on the stone floor, curled around his stomach where Thomas had kicked him. Jamie knelt down beside him, taking the wood out of his mouth.

"Are you all right?"

"I'll get you," spat Edwards, his gums dribbling blood. "I'll get you with my own hands if I have to, I'll be waiting by the executioner, fighting to get first crack at you-"

Perrott pushed Jamie aside, something sharp flashing in his hands. Edwards' vitriol descended into bubbling wheezes as he stared at the knife buried in his belly.

"You've killed him," gasped Jamie. He rose to his feet, hands balled into fists. Perrott backed off, looking wary.

"He was threatening us," said Thomas, stepping between them. "You heard him. Now come on, unless you want to be left behind for the King's justice."

Jamie glared at him, unsure of what to do but certain that this wasn't the adventure he'd thought he'd been signing up for.

"Thomas, bring me your mallet," called the Colonel.

Thomas walked away, Perrott following. After a moment, Jamie followed, sparing a last glance for Edwards bleeding out on the floor before looking away.

\---

The barracks were locked, and there was no one visible in the windows.

"They're probably training," said Zoe. "It's well past when a sailor should be awake. Nothing will be happening now, will it?"

"You're probably right," said the Doctor, "but I would like a look in there after all. We might even get lucky and catch them in the act - time travel does have a slight problem with accuracy."

"You don't have to tell me that," said Zoe with exaggerated weariness, and the Doctor looked wounded.

"What _are_ you talking about?" asked Jenny. "Time travel?"

"Don't worry about that now," said the Doctor. "How can we get in the barracks?"

"Well," Jenny had looked doubtful, but now perked up a bit. "Is there anyone official around?"

"No," said Zoe. The area around the barracks was relatively deserted, with only a few beggars and children quietly loitering.

"Good," said Jenny. She lifted her skirts and kicked the door in.

"A neat display of strength," said the Doctor, edging past the slightly splintered doorframe and into the building.

"They don't keep these places in very good shape," explained Jenny. She looked at Zoe, as if inviting approval. "It was a little rotten, I could tell."

"Still, very impressive," said Zoe, and Jenny's face lit up.

"Nothing in here," said the Doctor, disappointed. "I'm afraid we've wasted our time." He sat on one of the cots, reflecting that it was much less comfortable than Koschei's bed.

"What's that?" said Jenny.

"What?" the Doctor looked around.

"There's smoke." Jenny pointed at the light gray tendrils starting to filter into the air. "Is something on fire?"

"No, I think this is the Mist Heppy was talking about." Zoe reached out and waved a hand through some of it. "It feels odd."

"Quick, hide," said the Doctor, ducking under a bed and bumping his head. "Perhaps not there. But if the Mist is here, the abductors probably aren't far behind." He looked around a little frantically, and then finally ducked behind the bed instead of under it. After a moment, an odd creaking sound filled the air and Zoe and Jenny hurried to join him.  
The Mist thickened, and a green box began to fade into existence between the cots. As it solidified, a panel opened out of it, creating a doorway. The trio waited, but no one came out. After a moment, the Doctor stood up.

"I think they've realized that they've come to the wrong time to pick up any soldiers. If we hurry, maybe we can hitch a ride and find out what's going on." He looked down at Jenny and Zoe, who were still crouched behind the bed. "Well?"

They advanced slowly toward the box, the Doctor leading. The sound began again, and the Doctor jumped for it as the sliding doorway began to close. Zoe and Jenny fell in behind him and the box disappeared.

\---

The crown jewels glinted in the dim light. Two crowns, heavy with gems, lay next to an orb and a sceptre, both with crosses decorating them. The Colonel took the wooden mallet from Thomas and used it to hammer the smaller crown flat before stuffing it in a bag. Gems, knocked free of their settings, scattered across the floor.

"Easier transport," he said, glancing at Jamie's shocked face. "Pick those jewels up, will you?"

"I'll do no such thing," said Jamie, crossing his arms. "I'm only staying with you lot until I can find the Doctor, and then I'll have nothing more to do with this."

"Suit yourself," said the Colonel. "Thomas, give me a hand, then."

As Thomas gathered gems off the ground, Perrott picked up the orb from its velvet cushion, looking at it with a speculative air.

"What'll you do with that, then?" said Jamie, scornfully. "Smash it flat as well?"

Perrott raised an eyebrow and, sniggering, shoved the orb down his breeches.

"Wish there was another," he said. "Could have a matched set."

"Your trousers will fall down," said Jamie.

"Nah," said Perrott. "Got a belt." He buckled it as an afterthought.

Thomas started to file the sceptre in half, bracing it against the plinth that had held the Crown Jewels. Jamie shut up and stood aside, trying to distance himself from what suddenly seemed like a grossly criminal act.

"I'll tell the Doctor about this," he said, to no one in particular. "A man's dead."

"He won't be surprised," said the Colonel. "Your dear Doctor's been ashamed of me for a long time. This won't change anything." He had started off sounding bluff and confident, but as he spoke his voice faded into resignation.

Any further conversation was interrupted by Halliwell running into the room, barely avoiding tripping over Edwards' body.

"Blood! Blood, there's a kid here, Edwards' son. He'll be down here any minute, we've got to run."

"The hell you say," said the Colonel. "The son's been gone for ten years, at war in Europe." He gathered up his tools and spoils as he spoke, though, his actions more practical than the disbelief of his words.

"He's here now, wherever he was before," said Halliwell. "We'll be found out!"

"Not if we're quick," said the Colonel, with determination. "Thomas, forget about the sceptre. Go with Halliwell to the horses. Jamie, Perrott, with me. Meet up again at the hideout."

They all moved quickly, arguments and distrust forgotten by the need to escape. As they hurried up the stairs, Edwards came suddenly to life, his voice screeching after them.

"Treason! Murder!"

"Apparently not," laughed Thomas, before running after Halliwell. "Seems you bungled it, Perrott."

"Aye, just as well," said Jamie, flooded with relief even as he hurried to keep up with the Colonel. "Something off our consciences, then."

"Speak for yourself," said the Colonel. "He can identify us."

A female voice joined the cacophony of accusations, the daughter having found Edwards bleeding on the floor.

"Treason! The crown is stolen!"

Jamie looked back and saw a pair of men giving chase. One was blonde and tall, the other dark and short, and both looked ready to dispense the King’s justice then and there.

"Shit," said Perrott, with feeling.

\---

Jenny gaped at the room in which they had found themselves.

"It's bigger inside than out!"

"Many places are," said the Doctor. "Stop marveling and start thinking. We have to get out of sight before anyone spots us."

Zoe opened a door, carefully, and peered through the resulting crack.

"There's no one in here," she said. "I think it's an observation room or something - there's a viewscreen, at least."

"Good work, Zoe," said the Doctor. "Let's get in there. Best to be out of the hallway, I would think."

Jenny followed him, and then stood in awe again. As the slight vibration of the box stopped, the viewscreen lit up, showing the barracks. Only this picture showed the barracks night-dark and full of sleeping sailors. The Mist began to fill the room, and a few men sat up, looking at it. They called out, fearing fire, and the noise filtered through into the room that Jenny, Zoe, and the Doctor were standing in.

Now all of the sailors were awake, and some were staring straight at the viewscreen, presumably at the box. Everyone fell silent as the box opened and a man stepped out, just barely in the picture. He put on a pair of glasses and spoke to the panicked men.

"You will fall in and march into our transportation. That is an order."

Some of the men hesitated, but most of them followed the man's instructions immediately. Soon every sailor had gone into the box, followed by the man. The noises faded out and back in again as they began to sound from outside the door of the little room.

"Kidnapping soldiers," said the Doctor. "I was right. But what could they be doing with them?"

"I don't know," said Zoe, "but- Doctor, someone's at the door. We'd better hide."

"Oh, yes," said the Doctor, but he was still lost in thought.

Jenny spotted a shining, mostly opaque screen-wall off to the side, and pulled Zoe and the Doctor behind it. Just after they had gotten secure, the man with the glasses entered. He turned to the viewscreen and began to operate dials on a panel next to it. A buzzing started from the screen and he stepped back. A face appeared, that of a man with dark hair and very odd sideburns.

"This is the War Chief. You have a report, Smythe?"

"Sir. I have gathered a group of sailors from the selected time period. I will shortly return to the processing room, and I wished to be certain that they would be prepared for me."

"Of course," said the War Chief. "All is ready. Hurry up and get here. We need replacements for the casualties."

"Sir."

The viewscreen blanked, and the man walked out of the room, the door closing automatically after him.

"That tells us something, doesn't it?" said Jenny. "Time travel! But I suppose it must be true."

The Doctor said nothing, completely still beside her.

"Doctor, what's wrong?" asked Zoe.

"Nothing much," he said slowly. "Just surprised by a coincidence." The Doctor stepped out from behind the screen-wall and to the door out of the small room.

"We'll be landing at their headquarters soon," he said. "We need to get out of here as soon as we can. There's someone I need to speak to."


	3. Chapter 3

"Run _faster_ ," shouted the Colonel. "We're nearly to the outer walls!"

Jamie and Perrott merely puffed in response. Together, the group wheeled to run straight out of the inner courtyard. The pair of men chasing them duly changed direction, trying to catch up.

"Stop them!" screamed the darker-haired one, his voice strong despite the pace. A guard looked down from one of the towers, but the Colonel drew his pistol and fired at him without stopping. The bullet missed, ricocheting off the tower, and the guard threw himself down, hands covering his head.

"Come on," said the Colonel, keeping his pistol in his hands. The three hurried through the gate and they were across the drawbridge and into the outer walls. The guard on the other side of the bridge ducked out of the way at the sight of them.

"Where now?" said Jamie, panting. "Out the way we came?"

"They'll be expecting that," growled the Colonel. "Around the side, hurry."

"Why would they be expecting that?" complained Jamie. The gate they had come in was close, and now unguarded. But he followed all the same.

They ran as fast as they could to the Iron Gate, but their pursuers stayed with them all the way. No one stopped them, however, and soon they were bursting out onto a busy wharf.

"Fish!" screamed a woman.

"Eels!" shouted another.

"Help, he's got a gun!" shrieked a fisherman. The Colonel shoved him away, secreting the pistol back under his cloak.

"They're gaining," said Jamie, glancing back.

"Blood, we can't move quickly enough through these crowds," muttered Perrott.

"I've got a plan," said the Colonel, still trying to move forward, despite the press of people. "How close are they?"

"Close," said Jamie. "Very close."

The Colonel whirled around, face set in a comically over-exaggerated mask of dismay.

"Stop those thieves!" he shouted, one arm gesturing wildly at the blond and the dark-haired man. The crowd turned, as a unit, staring in their direction. The pair stood still with shock. A few burly heroes stepped toward them, looking dark.

"Steal from a parson, will you?"

"You ought to be ashamed."

"That'll keep them busy for a bit," said the Colonel. "Hurry, let's get out of here."

\---

The vibrations of the ship died away, leaving everything quiet, for a moment, before the noise of men moving broke the silence. The sailors seemed to be disembarking.

"I think we've landed," said the Doctor, starting toward the door of the little room. "Let's go and see."

"Shouldn't we wait to make sure everyone's off the ship?" asked Zoe, but she didn't move to stop the Doctor as he opened the door.

"If we wait too long, the ship might dematerialize again. No, we'll risk it. Come along."  
The Doctor, Zoe, and Jenny snuck through the ship's corridors, seeing no one. Finally, they came to the outer door.

"Hopefully any guards will be busy with the sailors," said the Doctor. "Let me just see if I can operate these door controls-" He fiddled for a moment with a panel, moving the cut-out shapes into a new configuration. The door slowly eased open, and Jenny stuck her head out.

"No one out here," she called. "Looks deserted."

"Very good," said the Doctor. "Let's find somewhere for you girls to hide, while I go find out what's going on."

"What?" said Zoe. "We're coming with you."

The Doctor shook his head.

"Zoe, this is all very dangerous. Anyway, there's someone I need to talk to, alone. I'd be much happier if I knew you and Jenny were safe."

"I don't see how we'll be very safe here," said Jenny. "Where are we, anyway?"

"I think it's a space station," said the Doctor. "It's certainly built like one. And, if I'm at all familiar with the design, I should be able to find a- hm." The Doctor walked toward one wall in the docking bay, then turned in the opposite direction and to another wall. He felt its panels one by one until he found a piece that gave a satisfying click and swung open.

"There you are," he said. "One hiding place, ready-made."

Zoe peered inside.

"Doctor, it's a boiler room."

"Well?"

"Oh, fine," said Zoe. She stepped in, followed by Jenny, who stared at the piping and the huge water boiler.

"Does the door open from the inside?" asked Jenny, not seeing a handle.

"Yes, yes," said the Doctor. "Just press it with both hands, and it will swing out. Now, be quiet, and I'll be back as soon as I can."

"You had better be," said Zoe, still eyeing the room with distaste.

The Doctor shut the door and hurried away.

"There aren't any lights in here," observed Jenny.

"I can't believe he left us alone and in the dark," said Zoe. "This is the worst metaphor."

\---

"There're horses there," said Jamie, pointing to a nearby hitching post with a few mares and geldings standing by it.

"Right," said the Colonel. "Grab them, we haven't got long."

"You are right, you do not," said a man behind them, his voice accented with Nordic tones. The blond had escaped the mob, though not without damage. One eye was blackened, and his nose bled freely as his hands reached for the Colonel's throat.

"Run, boys," said the Colonel, fumbling in his cloak for his pistol.

Perrott went to mount a horse, but Jamie held back, torn between helping the Colonel and getting out of there to find the Doctor. While he hesitated, the pistol went off into the air, and the blond tore it from the Colonel's hands.

"Where is the crown?" he snarled. He reeled back as the Colonel belted him across the face with his bag of loot. The blond grabbed at it, blindly, and then they began to struggle for the bag, lashing out at each other until they fell, rolling on the cobbles.

The confusion startled the horses at the hitching post, and several tried to get away, tugging at their reins. Perrott yelped as he was thrown by his rearing horse. He scrambled up and tried to run before being stopped by the dark-haired man.

"You nearly killed my father, you piece of scum."

"I'll try harder next time," sniggered Perrott automatically, before going down from a knee in the groin. Even as he fell, Edwards' son yelped, hopping on one foot and clutching his knee.

"What the hell do you keep in your trousers, blaggard?" He bent down and tore Perrott's belt away, keeping Perrott's hands pinned as he recovered.

The heroes from the mob approached, apparently having been convinced of who the real thieves were. Jamie weighed up the odds quickly and then threw himself at the men anyway.

"Creag an tuire!"

The fight didn't last long, and soon Jamie was face-down on the cobbles, along with Perrot and the Colonel.

"Oh, well," said the Colonel, grinning through blood and the mud of the ground. "It was a gallant attempt, though unsuccessful. It was for a crown, after all."

"A crown that you smashed to pieces, you scoundrel," said the young Edwards, looking into the sack of loot. "And that son of a bitch," he pointed at Perrott, "stuck the King's orb down his britches."

"I can only speak for what I myself looted, but I think you'll find the crown has merely been flattened," said the Colonel, archly. The blond man rolled his eyes and forced the Colonel's face further into the mud.

\---

The Doctor navigated the corridors of the space station, looking for a helpful sign saying "War Chief's Office." He'd had some trouble at first with guards trying to stop him, which had necessitated some fast talking. After that, however, he liberated a pair of the slit-visors that everyone was wearing, and the people of the space station ignored him in favor of their assigned tasks.

A tall man in a white coat was tinkering with some sort of machine. The Doctor stopped and quietly offered a few pieces of advice on wiring, before asking directions.

"Just down the corridor, on the left, you can't miss it," said the tall man. "Good luck."

"Oh, thank you," said the Doctor, smiling. The full effect was rather lost with his eyes covered, but the tall man smiled back all the same.

The Doctor walked down the corridor and knocked on the door on the left.

"Enter," said a voice. It was sharp and cold, and very familiar to the Doctor, just as the face on the viewscreen had been. Magnus, at least, hadn't regenerated since he'd seen him last.

The Doctor stepped through the opening door, removing his slit-visor at the same time.

"What is it?" asked Magnus, not looking up from his papers. He was even wearing the same giant medallion that he had taken to during academy.

"Just what do you think you are doing?" said the Doctor, determined to start things off on the proper note of indignation.

"Theta?" Magnus' eyes darted up immediately, and he automatically covered his papers with his arms. "How did you get here?"

"Call me the Doctor, please. And I suppose I should call you the War Chief?"

"If you prefer to stick to titles," said the War Chief. He hid his shock carefully, and his eyes narrowed and his voice became warm, though it didn't lose its sharpness. "It seems so unfamiliar. Are you trying to pretend that we are only acquaintances, Theta? I mean, Doctor, of course." He corrected himself before the Doctor had a chance to protest.

"I'll answer your questions in the order they were put," said the Doctor, eyeing the War Chief with a mixture of caution and distaste. "As to 'how I got here,' I found a timeship that was obviously designed by you in the middle of the seventeenth century on Earth. England. I'd very much like to know what _it_ was doing _there_."

"Isn't it obvious?" The War Chief smiled.

"I suppose you're planning to conquer London, crown yourself King, some such nonsense. It'll never work."

"Not at all, Doctor. Earth, especially in such a primitive era, isn't on the _top_ of my list for domination. No, I'm afraid my man was just picking up reinforcements. Do you want to know why?"

The Doctor nodded, and the War Chief stood up.

"I will tell you, but only because I hope that you will choose to help me rather than ruin this galaxy's best chance for peace." The War Chief reached across his desk and put both his hands on the Doctor's shoulders. The Doctor broke away, and the War Chief stepped after him, walking around the desk to stand beside him.

"What are you doing with the Humans?" asked the Doctor.

"My employers are using various eras of soldiers to conduct a series of war games - you stumbled into the recruiting for our mock English Civil War. A little late in the era, I admit, but we don't want to disrupt the actual battles too much. In any case, when we have determined who the best soldiers are, we will be able to form an army that can conquer the entire galaxy."

"This is monstrous," said the Doctor, quietly. "How many people die every day in your faked-up battles?"

"No more than would die in the real battles that we stole them from. There are hundreds of thousands of soldiers, and corresponding casualties, but they receive medical care according to their period." The Doctor blanched, but the War Chief ignored it, wrapping an arm around the Doctor's shoulders. "I'm not the cold-hearted villain you suppose me to be."

"Oh no?" The Doctor fidgeted a little, but didn't move away this time. "What about when your 'employers' use their army to rule the galaxy? Are they the sort of people who you would entrust with rule over trillions?"

"No," the War Chief admitted. He smiled, though, confident in his plan. "But I am, and so are you, Doctor. I will overthrow the leadership here with ease, especially with you at my side. Think of it, Theta. All our naive daydreams brought to life at last. Peace and order, across the galaxy."

"There's a reason why they're called daydreams, you know," said the Doctor, sourly. The War Chief squeezed his arm tighter, bringing the Doctor even closer alongside him.

"I'm so glad you appeared. We could never fail, together. If only you had never left."

"I had my reasons," said the Doctor, but he still didn't push the War Chief away.

\---

"We've been waiting for ages," said Zoe. "Where _is_ the Doctor?"

"Maybe he's been captured," said Jenny.

"No, he can't have been. He'll find his way back."

"I suppose." Jenny ran her fingers through her hair. "We're really in the heavens, now? How far are we from England?"

"I don't know," said Zoe. "A few million miles, at a guess."

"Do you think we'll make it back?"

"Of course." Zoe's voice was firm, even if she was still worried about the Doctor. "We'll travel back in one of the boxes."

"I hope you're right," said Jenny.

"I am. No, all I'm concerned with is how to keep from dying of boredom."

They sat in silence for a moment.

"I have a few ideas," said Jenny, and leaned forward to where Zoe was dimly visible through the dark.

"What-" began Zoe, and then they were kissing.

Zoe opened her mouth and leaned back into Jenny for a moment before pushing her away, hands tight on her shoulders.

"What are you doing?" Zoe sounded more curious than shocked, and Jenny twisted out of her grasp and leaned forward again, murmuring into her ear.

"Kissing you. Don't you like it?"

"That's not the point. I thought primitive Earth culture didn't recognize homosexual relationships as legitimate."

"What?"

"I didn't think people in your time thought girls kissing each other was okay. It's against your religion, or something."

"It depends on how many ales they've had," said Jenny. "I don't think it's any harm, do you?" Encouraged by Zoe's silence, she put her hands on the other girl's waist. "We're up in the stars, and you think I'm worried about what God thinks of me?"

"Why _are_ you doing this, Jenny?"

"I like you. And I saw you looking at me earlier." Jenny, bit Zoe's earlobe, gently, but the other girl started anyway.

"I was wondering if we were the same size! I only wanted to borrow your clothes."

"I love thinking about you wearing my clothes."

"The dress doesn't really fit, you know. It's much too large - practically falling off."

"Believe me, I noticed," said Jenny.

Zoe hesitated.

"This is some ploy to make Thomas jealous, isn't it. Or a rebound or something."

"No!" Jenny lurched back, looking hurt. "It's just- oh, I realize that I get to liking people pretty easily. But you seemed nice, and, well, I'd rather I did something while I had the chance. You heard the Doctor," Jenny continued, looking through her eyelashes, "it's very dangerous. Don't want to die with regrets."

"Oh, Jenny. You needn't be scared."

"That's not- what's the use?" Jenny pushed herself back to where she had been sitting before. "I'm sorry I bothered you."

"Jenny-" Zoe stopped herself as noises began to filter in through the door from the landing bay. One of the boxes was landing, and then there was the sound of people emerging, and some kind of scuffle.

"Let go, you shit-filled sons of asses!" The voice was heavily accented, and soon broke down into cursing in Spanish. Zoe winced as the words stopped suddenly and the sound came of the guards clubbing their prisoner.

"We have to help him," she said. "He's probably another poor soldier who they've captured."

"If we just open the door we'll be caught as well," pointed out Jenny.

"What we need," said Zoe, "is a distraction." She eyed the boiler's controls, and then the pipes leading away from it. "Just how strong are you, Jenny?"

\---

"Agh, my head," moaned Thomas. He curled up, trying and failing to get comfortable on the straw-covered floor of their cell.

"I still can't believe they got you too," said Jamie, nursing his twisted shoulder. "What happened?"

"Crashed into a cart," said Thomas. "You'd think a horse would be clever enough to jump the damn thing, but I just got bashed into the ground instead."

"Quiet," said the Colonel. "I'm trying to think."

"And where has your thinking got us?" said Perrott, face entirely devoid of humor for once. "Locked up in the Tower, back where we started. To hell with your thinking."

"At least Halliwell got away," sighed Thomas. "Maybe he'll-"

"He'll save his own skin," snapped Perrott.

"The Doctor will rescue us," said Jamie, but he sounded a little uncertain.

"Shut up," said the Colonel, his voice rising. "I'm _trying_ to _think_."

Silence fell for a moment, as they all considered their surroundings. Light filtered in from a slit in the stone, just enough to illuminate the water dripping from the mold on the walls. Jamie edged away from a cockroach that seemed fascinated with his boot.

"Mum will visit, right?" said Thomas. In the dungeon, his cultured affectations were slipping away, making him sound ever more like the lost young man that he actually was.

"She'll try," said the Colonel. "I doubt they'll grant her request."

"We'll die down here," said Perrott, his voice flat with certainty.

"Sure and you will." A portly middle-aged gentleman walked up out of the gloom, flanked by two guards. "Unless you confess and give us your co-conspirators."

"Who might you be, sir?" said Thomas, sitting up straight.

"Sir Gilbert Talbot, the Provost Marshal. Your Lordship to you. And you will be Thomas Blood junior, alias Tom Hunt. Robert Perrott. Colonel Thomas Blood himself." His eyes flicked across the company, hesitating a little at Jamie. "And unknown accomplice." His eyes, glimmering as they caught the faint light, turned back to the Colonel. "Why did you do it?"

The Colonel said nothing, only stared at the ground. Sir Gilbert leaned closer in.

"Was it for the money? The fame? To strike a blow against the crown? Enlighten me, Blood. Tell me all about your grand scheme. I know you want to."

The Colonel looked up at last, smiling faintly.

"You're not fit to hear it, Sir Gilbert."

"No?" Sir Gilbert raised an eyebrow. "Who will you tell, then?"

"Why, the King, of course," said the Colonel. "Bring me to the King and all of England shall hear my confession."

"His Majesty isn't to be bothered with the likes of you," snarled Sir Gilbert. "Confess or rot here for eternity."

Perrott started to say something, and then stopped. Thomas stayed silent, looking at the Colonel. Jamie had no idea why they had been trying to steal the jewels in the first place.

"The King," said the Colonel, "or my story dies with me."

"I'll speak with His Majesty," said Sir Gilbert, regaining his composure. "But I wouldn't hope for much. And for God's sake, take off that mock-priest's robe."

"I can't," said the Colonel, losing his confidence for the first time.

"Whyever not?"

"I'm not wearing anything underneath," the Colonel muttered.

Sir Gilbert chuckled, surprised, and then let himself laugh fully. The Colonel fumed.

"Oh, this is going well," said Jamie.

\---

"I saw Koschei, you know," said the Doctor, fiddling with the cuffs of his jacket. "He's on Earth."

"Really?" The War Chief's face dropped into a look of polite interest, and he relinquished the Doctor's shoulder at last. "How is he?"

"Surviving. That's all of our old group exiled, isn't it? Us three, Ushas, Mortimer..."

"Koschei was hardly ever a member of our group, was he? More of a hanger-on, one of your friends."

"Yes, I suppose he was. Still, don't you think that says something about us?" The Doctor leaned forward, but the War Chief just frowned.

“What, that I didn’t really get along with your precious Koschei? Yes, I do think that says something about _us_ , Doctor.”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” said the Doctor, with exasperation. “Forget about your petty rivalries, and think, for just a moment. Mortimer exiled after overzealous attempts to change history for the ‘better,’” he ticked off a finger. “Yourself exiled for much the same reason. I ran away from my desk job and my problems with the High Council without any warning. Koschei exiled for looking for me, though I doubt that’s the whole story.” He held up a hand, with all five digits extended, “and I’m sure you remember what happened with Ushas and those gigantic amphibians and reptiles. You see?”

"I’m afraid I don’t, Doctor.” The War Chief shrugged. “We dreamed too high for the Time Lords to accept. We were too ambitious to fit into their stagnant society. Should we be blamed for that?"

“Of course not.” The Doctor sighed. “I just meant, well, we were going to _change_ things. We were going to help our society become better, not just rail against it until we were kicked out. I don’t quite see what we’ll accomplish, now, scattered and cut off from Gallifrey.”

“We can accomplish so much more,” said the War Chief, returning to familiar ground. “We can bring forth an age of galactic peace, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

"Galactic domination wasn’t _exactly_ what I had in mind," said the Doctor, slowly. "But your viewscreen is flashing."

"Ah." The War Chief turned to the screen, gesturing at the Doctor to get out of its line of sight. "This is the War Chief."

A man with spectacles and a close-shaven beard appeared on the screen.

"Report on your progress," he said.

"Of course, War Lord. The war games continue apace, with minimal resistance from the troops. We are developing a new processing machine which should eliminate problems with individual troublemakers altogether." The War Chief shuffled paper on his desk. Behind his back, the Doctor edged to the door.

"Very good," said the War Lord. "I am now going to speak with the Security Chief. Continue with your work."

"Of course," said the War Chief. The screen blanked, and he turned back to the Doctor, who was now almost out of the room. "Where do you think you are going?"

"I just thought I'd pop out for a moment," said the Doctor. "Tour the facilities, you know."

"I don't think so," said the War Chief. "You're not going to support me at all, are you? You're going to try and stop me." His tone got progressively nastier as he spoke, and he rose, hands clutching into fists. "How can you fight against galactic peace like this?"

"With great regret, I assure you," said the Doctor, and then ran for it.

"Guards!" the War Chief screamed after him.

\---

"Now, Jenny, this is a steam boiler, supplying heat to different parts of the space station. Primitive, yes, but it works well as a low-maintenance support system. If I do this, however," Zoe moved a few controls toward the top of the panel, "it begins to manufacture far more steam than is actually necessary, pushing it through those pipes." Zoe pointed at a pair of pipes that disappeared into the wall. "Are you with me so far?"

"I think so," said Jenny. "So I break those pipes and steam fills the room." She picked up a wrench-like implement from the floor and moved toward the wall, but Zoe stopped her.

"We have to time this exactly. The steam will be extremely hot. I'll open the door just as you release the steam, and we'll run out with it for cover. All right?" Zoe moved to the door. "On three. One, two, three!"

Jenny swung the wrench and Zoe pushed the door open. Three guards swung around, one of them firing blindly into the boiling cloud that was swiftly filling the room. The other guards soon joined him, leaving Jenny and Zoe free to circle around and pull the captive away. He stayed silent, and they opened a door and left the guards firing at nothing.

Out in the corridor, Zoe and Jenny got their first good look at the man they had rescued. He had a stout frame, made bulkier by his overlarge shirt and vest. His brown hair was tousled from the struggle with the guards, but looked as if it had been rather unkempt in the first place, like his short, ragged beard.

"What is this?" he said, his hands instinctively going for guns that were no longer at his hips. "Women?"

"I'm Zoe, and this is Jenny." Zoe looked around the hall, and began to walk down one end. "We have to get out of sight. Who are you?"

The man followed her, puffing himself up.

"I am Arturo Villar, leader of the bandits of the resistance. I was captured by these pigs, after my men and I raided one of their stations. Now, though I have the run of their headquarters." He reached again for missing guns and scowled. "I will get weapons, and bring my men here, and then we will destroy them all."

"You'll do no such thing," said Zoe. "The last thing we need is you drawing attention to us."

"Oh no?" Villar raised an eyebrow. "I thank you for helping me, little lady, but-"

"Be quiet and listen to Zoe," said Jenny, walking behind him. "She knows what she's about." Villar turned and stared at her, but Jenny just looked down her nose at him from her three-inch advantage in height.

"Fine," said Villar, throwing up his hands. "But I would like a weapon all the same, to protect us from any curious people. Like those ones," he added, spotting some men rushing down the corridor toward them.

"That's the Doctor!" said Zoe.

"Those are more guards," said Jenny, grabbing Zoe's hand and turning to run.

"I hate running in long skirts," complained Zoe, hitching them up with her other hand. "I should have never changed clothes."

They pelted down the corridor, making it around a corner and then, out of sight of their pursuers, into a room. Zoe kept the door open and then, as the Doctor caught up, pulled him in.

"Oh, I am glad to see you," said the Doctor, before falling on the door's controls.

"Who is this Doctor?" said Villar. "He is a friend of yours?"

"He's the one who got us into this mess," said Jenny. "Hopefully he's the one who can get us out."

"I'm trying," said the Doctor. "I've locked the door, so that should hold them for a while. I need to- I need to make some calls."

"Doctor, what did you find out?" asked Zoe. The Doctor looked a little shaky, and he was grinning nervously.

"This and that. I thought perhaps I could just liberate the kidnapped English soldiers and then send them home. I'm afraid I rather underestimated the scale of matters."

"We do not need your help," proclaimed Villar. "Give me a gun and I shall destroy this place myself, and we will all be free."

"It won't work," The Doctor shook his head. "Even if you were successful, everyone would still be displaced, out of their proper places in time. Not to mention the poor men and women who have already died. The whole timestream needs to be repaired. No, we need help, and I know where to get it. I only wish that I didn't."

"Why?" asked Zoe. "Oh, Doctor, I do wish that you would just tell us what happened."

"I'm sorry, there isn't time." The Doctor sat down on the floor and began to rummage through his pockets. "I'm going to call my people, the Time Lords. They'll sort this all out. But as soon as I have sent them a report we must leave. We must run as fast and far as we can. Do you understand?"

"No," said Jenny. "Why are we running from your people?"

"Why is your Colonel Blood in hiding from the Crown?" retorted the Doctor.

Somebody tried to open the door from the outside, and then there was pounding as they tried to batter it open. Everyone turned to look at it in silence.

"If they get in, they'll try to stop me from sending for help," said the Doctor. "Try to hold them off." He began to lay white squares in a haphazard circle.

"How are we supposed to do that?" said Zoe, as the door began to buckle under the strain.

"He-ey, look," said Villar, pointing. "I think we are in some equipment room, eh? They keep guns here for their toy soldiers." He pulled a carbine down off the wall, and tossed a pair of Colts to Jenny. "Give one to your friend. I will find ammunition."

Jenny examined the pistols before handing one to Zoe.

"They look weird, but I suppose you just pull the trigger, right? Same as at home."

"I think so," said Zoe. "I've never actually had to fire an old-Earth weapon before." She looked at the Doctor to see if he would object, but he was deep in a trance.

"It is easy," said Villar, having found some boxes of ammunition that would fit the guns. "Here, I will show you how to load them, and then you just kill people. Very simple." He pulled the cylinder open on Zoe's Colt and began to load it with cartridges and percussion caps. Jenny imitated him, her eyes darting between the gun and the door.

"They're coming," said Zoe. "Set yourselves up around the Doctor."

Villar broke his carbine open and loaded it, chewing idly at his mustache.

The door broke open and the guards burst in. One of them fell to Villar's shot, another clutched at his arm and lurched back as Zoe chose another non-lethal target. Jenny cursed as her shot ricocheted off the wall.

The Doctor stood up behind them, holding a small white box.

"You're too late," he called, and the box disappeared out of his hands. "I've sent the message. The Time Lords will be here soon."

"What?" roared the War Chief, pushing his way past the guards. The fighting stopped, everyone watching the confrontation. "How could you be so stupid? You've doomed us both."

"If you say so." The Doctor folded his hands together, and smiled. "I'd say your men have more important things to do now, don't you think?"

"Yes," agreed the War Chief, reluctantly. "Someone notify the Security Chief and the War Lord, immediately. We're all doomed unless we can escape as quickly as possible."  
The guards scurried away, leaving the War Chief to glower at the Doctor.

"You're taking me with you," he said. "I know you've got a plan to escape."

"Yes, but not a very good one," agreed the Doctor, walking out into the corridor and back to the landing bay. Zoe laid down her weapon before following, but Jenny and Villar held on to theirs. "I only thought I'd borrow one of these ships you've obviously worked so hard on. Why should I let you come along, anyway?"

"You must," snarled the War Chief, grabbing the Doctor's coat with both hands and spinning him around. "I will not-" he stopped as he felt the barrel of Villar's rifle at his back. The Doctor looked at him with interest.

"You can't just leave me here to die," the War Chief said at last, reduced to pleading. "You know what the Time Lords will do to me if I am caught."

"You'd deserve it," said the Doctor. "But I suppose I can't condemn you. Let's go, we're wasting time."

\---

"His Majesty says he's busy," said Sir Gilbert. "You'll have to confess to me after all."  
"Nothing doing," said the Colonel. "I'll tell you about something else, though. Did you know I nearly assassinated His Majesty, once?"

Sir Gilbert raised an eyebrow. "Do tell."

"He was bathing in the Thames, but I was stopped by sheer awe of his, well, majesty." The Colonel winked. "If you know what I mean."

Sir Gilbert groaned and covered his eyes. Back in the corner of the cell, Jamie made a face.

"How long are we going to have to deal with this? Why doesn't your father just tell them what he's been up to?"

"Strategy," said Thomas, quietly. "The King could give us a much better deal than Sir Gilbert. If, on the other hand, the King doesn't like us, the worst that can happen is we'll be executed. And that's likely to happen anyway." He sighed. "Why didn't I stick to the highwayman's life? It was so _simple_."

"I think the Colonel's trying to imply something about His Majesty," said Jamie, listening to the Colonel's attempts at 'negotiation' with Sir Gilbert.

"You know the King's short on cash," he was saying. "Maybe he asked me to steal the Jewels for him to flog? I'm a great fixer of gentlemen's problems, as His Majesty has reason to know." The Colonel winked again, but Sir Gilbert looked, if anything, even more dubious than he had at the story about the bath.

"Yes, you've picked up on that, have you?" hissed Thomas to Jamie. "My God, this is at least the third or fourth most embarrassing thing that Father's ever put me through."

"What was the most embarrassing thing?" asked Jamie, curiously.

"Well, he did get us banned from the local church when I was four. Summoning demons, the parson said. But I think the worst thing," said Thomas, slowly, "was when he tried to out my fiancée as an alien."

"That must have been rough," offered Jamie.

"It was. I only wish Frances had _told_ me she was a stranded Vespiform. I had to stop Father from drowning her."

Sir Gilbert was walking away from the cell.

"Look, just ask the King again," called the Colonel after him.

"Oh, aye, I will," said Sir Gilbert. "I'm sure he'd love to hear what you've been saying about him."

"I haven't spoken one word out of turn," said the Colonel.

"Not for lack of trying," said Thomas, bitterly. "What were you going to say next, that I was His Majesty's illegitimate son?"

"That's a good idea." The Colonel looked thoughtful. "I'll try that one when he comes back."

"Please don't. You know, I was going to miss you when you left. Now, not really. You really can be completely incompetent, can't you?"

The Colonel's expression got stuck somewhere between annoyed and guilty. He started to say something, but stopped. Jamie shifted, uncomfortable at having to watch. Perrott scowled and turned his back, huddling against the stone wall.

They all sat in tense silence for what might have been hours, or only minutes. Finally, the Colonel spoke.

"I'm sorry you feel that way, Thomas, but-"

The cell door rattled and opened. Sir Gilbert motioned for them to get up from the floor.

"His Majesty will see you now."

\---

The landing bay was empty of steam now, one of the guards having presumably turned off the boiler. The group ran into one of the empty ships.

"These are very accurate, aren't they?" The Doctor closed the door and set the ship into flight. "Can they home in on a Human who is aligned to my timestream?"

"Of course," said the War Chief. "My SIDRATs are the very pinnacle of time and space technology. Give me this person's biocoordinates."

The Doctor began rattling off numbers, and the War Chief fed them into the SIDRAT.

"We're going back to get Jamie, aren't we?" said Zoe.

"Yes," said the Doctor, "and to get my TARDIS as well. Your SIDRAT is all very well, War Chief, but it's not nearly as comfortable."

"It's not meant to be," said the War Chief, dryly. His composure dropped in a moment, however, as the SIDRAT began to shudder and a voice came from nowhere.

"Stop the machine and surrender. There is no escape."

"Your Time Lords have found us," said Villar.

"Can't you make this materialize any faster?" demanded the Doctor. The War Chief shook his head.

"I sacrificed durability for precision, Doctor. I didn't really have the materials at hand to mass-produce something that could last."

"I saw that," said the Doctor. "Are those refrigerator magnets you're using as controls?"

"Very amusing. Regardless, I'm pushing too hard as it- oh, no." Smoke began to rise from the floor, and the War Chief's hands danced over the directional panels. "We're losing flight. We've arrived, but the landing mechanisms gone. We're going to crash."

The Doctor and the War Chief began babbling at each other, fighting over the controls. Jenny clutched the stock of her gun, trying not to panic.

"I don't want to crash," she muttered. "Crashing sounds very, very bad."

"Don't worry," said Zoe, patting her back. "The Doctor will make sure everything turns out alright."

"How will he do that? We're falling out of space!"

"I fell out from a hot air balloon once," offered Villar. "It was not so bad. It was only from fifteen feet up though. Perhaps falling from space will be worse."

Jenny laughed, a little hysterically.

"I'm going to die, and you're talking about balloons? If I have to-"

Zoe kissed her, standing on her tiptoes to press lightly at her lips.

"Do you still like me, Jenny?" she asked, when she drew back.

"What? Aye, I still like you." Jenny touched her mouth with her fingertips, and grinned, only a little tensely.

"Then don't worry," instructed Zoe, smiling back. "It will all work out for the best. And when we're all safe on the ground, I'm sure there will be time for us to get to know each other better."

"Like that, eh?" said Villar, looking between Jenny's look of interest and Zoe's slight blush. "Huh."

"What, have you got a problem?" said Jenny, belligerently.

"Stop arguing and hold on to something," said the Doctor. "We're coming down."

\---

"I can't believe we're going to meet the King," said Jamie. "Bonny Prince Charlie's..." He paused, and his eyes unfocused. "Grandfather? No. Great-uncle!"

"I think he's just curious," said Thomas. "Wants to meet the men daring enough to steal his Jewels and then ask to confess to him personally."

"Quiet!" said the guard who was conveying them down the corridor to His Majesty's Court. He’d been watching them ever since they’d left the Tower, and he seemed to be even tenser now that they’d reached the home stretch.

"Oh, quiet yourself," said Jamie. "It's not every day you get to meet the King."

"His Majesty, King Charles of England, Scotland, and Ireland!" shouted a different guard. Everyone bowed.

His Majesty blinked at them, slouching up on his throne.

"Well then. These are the men who would have my crown for their own, eh? Explain yourselves."

"Your esteemed Majesty," said the Colonel, drawing himself up. "I am your most humble servant, and-"

"Not so humble, if you steal my things," said His Majesty, mildly. "Try again."

The Colonel frowned, involuntarily stepping back a pace. His fingers reflexively straightened the ill-fitting clothing he had been given to replace his black robe.

"Most merciful Monarch-"

"Actually, today I'm feeling quite vindictive," remarked His Majesty. "Don't be casting aspirations on me, now."

"Stop trying to butter him up," hissed Thomas. "It's not working."

"I suppose you have a better plan?" said the Colonel, looking utterly exasperated.

"Oh, that's right," said His Majesty. "Talk amongst yourselves, ignore me. I'm only the bloody King, you know."

"Look!" said Jamie, pointing up at the skylight.

"Not now," said the Colonel.

"No, really, look! Wait," Jamie frowned. "Duck!"

The SIDRAT crashed into and through the ceiling, trailing vapor and plaster.


	4. Chapter 4

Nobody in the court moved for a full minute. Then the King stood up from his throne and took a hesitant step toward the strange green box that had crashed into the middle of his audience with Colonel Blood. A panel slid out of the box, and smoke billowed out, followed by a group of coughing men and women.

Guards rushed to surround the box and protect their king, but the Doctor ignored them, skirting around to grab Jamie and the Colonel by the hand.

"Oh, am I happy to see you. Listen, we must get to my TARDIS immediately-"

"What's going on?" asked Jamie. "Where'd yon box come from?"

"Is that-" The Colonel tugged his hand loose from the Doctor's grip. "Is that _Magnus_? What the hell is he doing here? With you?"

"Hello, Koschei," said the War Lord. "Isn't this... delightful. The Doctor said you were around."

"I'll explain on the way," said the Doctor, trying to recapture the Colonel's hand. "This really isn't the time."

"Who are these people?" demanded the King. "Is this an attempt at a rescue? Under _my very nose_?"

"Ah," said the Doctor, turning around. "So you managed to get caught, did you? I did try to warn you, Koschei, but you never would listen to me."

"Please don't remind me," said the Colonel. "And I asked you to stop calling me that."

"Is someone ashamed of his nickname?" asked the War Chief, mildly. "I remember when you were practically jumping for joy about it. So excited that Theta had convinced our group to grant you an earth-based moniker."

"Father, who is this?" asked Thomas. He looked around at the cluster of renegade Time Lords and raised his eyebrows. "Another old flame?"

"No!" said the Colonel and the War Chief at the exact same time.

"Did you even hear me?" shouted the King. "What in blazes are you idiots doing?"

"I dunno, but it's pretty funny." Perrott didn't bother to hide his snaggle-toothed grin. "Why don't you relax?"

The King turned to scream at his guards. Before he could say anything, a shot was fired into the ceiling and more plaster fell onto the floor.

"Listen up," said Villar, bringing his rifle down to level it at His Majesty. "You all just going to listen to what this little lady has to say, understand? Or I shoot this shouting man."

Silence fell, leaving a space for Zoe to step into.

"All right, please, everyone do just as I say, or my friends here will be forced to do something we will all deeply regret." She nodded at Jenny, who raised her gun and aimed it at the pack of guards.

"Now then," continued Zoe. "All of us are going to leave. No one will stop us. To ensure that, the King will accompany us until we arrive at our transport. We shall release him before we leave. A few guards are welcome to follow, but we will shoot His Majesty if anyone makes any suspicious movements. Doctor?" She looked to him for confirmation.

"Yes, that sounds excellent, Zoe. Carry on." The Doctor grinned, nervously.

"Very well. Your Majesty, if you please."

The King strode up to Zoe, his expression mutinous and his face bright red. Jenny grabbed him by the arm and dug her revolver into his side.

"Everyone together now," called the Doctor, and led the way out of the court. The Colonel and the War Chief followed, along with Thomas and Perrott. Jenny and the King walked in the middle, with Jamie, Zoe, and Villar bringing up the rear. The crowds parted for them, looking scared and uncertain, and a few guardsmen detached themselves to clear a path. They didn't want anyone to startle the hostage group and lose the King by accident.

"Jenny, will you be alright?" asked Zoe. "I don't-"

"I'll be fine," said Jenny. "I can handle myself, but don't distract me. My God," she said, wonder suffusing her face as she looked at the angry man in her care. "We've kidnapped the King!"

"This is amazing, Zoe," said Jamie. "That was some fast thinking."

"I'm just glad it's over," she answered. "Don't look to me for any more miracles, because I'm afraid I'm fresh out. All I can think of is that I never did find out if I know how to juggle."

"Do not worry," growled Villar. "If this goes wrong, we will all be dead before we have time for big ideas."

"I'm sure it'll all work out," said Jamie. "We've only to walk back to the TARDIS, and then we'll be away, with no one the wiser. There's room for us all."

"Huh." Villar looked skeptical. "Another box-ship? Where will we go?"

"Anywhere not here," said Zoe, firmly. "I have to tell you, Jamie, that we're on the run. The Doctor's in some sort of trouble with the authorities from his world, and they're chasing us down."

"Yes, yes," said Villar. His carbine jerked in time with his words, underlining his impatience. "Always I am on the run. But perhaps we can go to Mexico? My men will help protect you and your Doctor, no problem. But I must return to lead them."

"Sorry," said Jamie. "The Doctor will probably try, if you put it to him like that, but he's not a great one for getting people where they want to go."

Villar grimaced, and Zoe spoke hurriedly, sensing his mood.

"We do realize you want to go home, Villar. We'll do our best to get you there. But it may have to wait until the current crisis is completely over. Until then," Zoe glanced at the guards around them as the doors out of the palace were opened by a hysterical pageboy, "please watch our backs. You were right; if we can't get back to the TARDIS, we're all in trouble."

\---

The sun was going down outside of the palace, and the evening crowds scattered in front of the group. Many of the people reformed behind them and followed the party, their curiosity undiminished by Villar's threatening moves with his carbine. The Doctor ignored the commotion, concentrating on finding his way back to the TARDIS.

"We definitely came out along the docks," he muttered. "It has to be one of these alleyways on the left..."

"So, how long have you and Magnus been seeing each other?" asked the Colonel, nastily. "I understand now why you never bothered to come looking for me."

"Don't be paranoid, Koschei," said the Doctor soothingly, even as he rolled his eyes. "I came upon the War Chief purely by chance."

"Is _that_ what he's calling himself now? Isn't that one of the Village People?"

"You're not going to win the Doctor over with random Earth-culture references," scoffed the War Chief. "I came by my title honestly, at least. What are you using, again?"

"Colonel."

"Of course. And I suppose you expect me to believe that you actually made it to the rank of Colonel in someone's army? Or perhaps you've begun a chicken-based eatery in this era, and stolen your marketing strategy. Anachronism and copyright infringement are rather beneath you, don't you think?"

"Perhaps we've gone too far," said the Doctor. "No, wait, I recognize that sign. Or, at least I think I do."

"I earned the rank of Colonel, if not necessarily in the traditional manner. Anyway," the Colonel flicked his eyes across the War Chief's sharp cheekbones, "at least my sideburns don't come in as spikes."

"I shave them that way," sniffed the War Chief. "It's fashion - you wouldn't understand. Just look at your clothes."

"I had to borrow these," said the Colonel. "My own suits are perfectly adequate."

"I'm sure you think so," said the War Chief. "In a way, you're lucky. It's much easier for Time Lords such as yourself whose bodies look so very old. No one expects you to keep yourselves up, unlike us poor younger-bodied ones."

"This body has character," said the Colonel. "I can't say the same for yours; you could have copied it from one of my old academy portraits. No wonder you felt the need for ridiculous facial hair in order to distinguish yourself."

"Is this the right alley?" wondered the Doctor. "Oh, everything looks so different in the dark."

"Doctor," Jamie called. "The TARDIS is right this way." He pointed at an alley they had just gone past.

"Thank you, Jamie." The Doctor frowned and started patting his pockets for the key.

"Can we hurry it up a little?" asked Jenny. "The King's starting to get restive." His Majesty was indeed fidgeting in her grasp, trying to subtly dislodge the barrel of her revolver from his ribs.

"You want I should shoot him in the leg?" asked Villar. "It will not kill him, and it will make it much harder to run."

The guards shifted uneasily at this suggestion, but the Doctor shook his head.

"No," he said, producing the key, "I think we're practically out of here. We'll just calmly walk down that alley, and then-"

"Renegades," boomed a voice out of nowhere. The crowd stirred as people looked wildly around, trying to find the source of the voice.

"Renegades, give yourselves up. You must face the consequences of your actions."

"They've found us," hissed the War Chief.

"This is what you didn't have time to explain?" demanded the Colonel. "You're being hunted by the High Council, and you didn't bother to tell me?"

"It's a recent development," said the Doctor.

"It's all his fault," said the War Chief, glaring at the Doctor.

"It most certainly is not." The Doctor wrung his hands. "But they can't do anything unless we're in the TARDIS. I mean, they wouldn't send someone to pick us up, would they? That would be interfering in history."

"Father, what's going on?" asked Thomas. He, Perrott, and Jamie were wide-eyed and staring, not having experienced this before.

"It's my people, Thomas, the ones who exiled me. The War Chief here has apparently called them down on us all." The Colonel turned back to the Doctor. "We can't just stand here forever."

"Something will happen," said the Doctor. "Something has to, and then we can take advantage of it."

"Renegades, surrender now," said the voice, and everyone jumped. The King took advantage of it to twist out of Jenny's grip, shoving her revolver away.

"Guards! Guards, arrest these people."

Jenny fired a wild shot, missing everyone. There was an odd screeching noise, and her stray bullet embedded itself in the front of a carriage that had just appeared in the middle of the road.

"Right," said a man, popping out of it. "That's enough of that. You're all coming with me."

"Narvin?" said the Colonel. "They sent _Narvin_?"

"Yes," confirmed Narvin. "Why don't you all stop running around like savages and just come home with me? It makes me sad to see good Prydonians acting like this. Especially you, Theta Sigma. What would your House say?"

"I don't see what business it is of theirs. Or of yours, whoever you are," said the Doctor, shortly. "Colonel, you know this person?"

"He's a CIA operative," said the Colonel. "I worked with him before I resigned. I assume he's come to collect you."

"More or less," agreed Narvin. "If you'd all just step into my," he looked around at the outside of his vehicle, "carriage, we can be on our way."

"Absolutely not," shouted the King. "Now that I have escaped, these villains are subject to my justice!"

Narvin raised an eyebrow. "I'm afraid the Laws of Time take precedence over your primitive conceptions of 'justice'."

"That's it," said the King, "I will not be spoken to in this manner. Guards, arrest this man."

"Just one moment," said Narvin. He ducked back into the interior of the carriage, even as the guards approached, pikes at the ready.

One of them seized the handle of the passenger's door, pulling it half open. Just then, a pulse of blue light spread through the immediate area. The guards froze, along with the King and the crowd of spectators. Perrott stopped moving as well, though Thomas and Jenny only looked confused for a moment before shaking it off.

"Time field," said Narvin, popping out again. He pushed away the immobile guard who was still clutching the handle of his carriage door. "Halts the time line of anyone who's aligned to this era."

"Can you do that, Doctor?" asked Jamie. He was passing a hand in front of Perrott's face, eliciting no reaction.

"No," said the Doctor. "I wasn't even aware the technology existed."

"Oh, I've been given quite a few toys to play with," said Narvin. He smiled, dryly. "The Doctor and the War Chief are considered very high priority. The War Lord and his men have already been eliminated, so you're the last loose ends."

"What happened to them?" said the War Chief.

"Dematerialised," said Narvin. "They tried to fight us off. Foolish, but at least they can't make any more mistakes now."

"What about the soldiers, eh?" said Villar. "You demarrialy them as well?"

"Of course not," said Narvin. "The displaced primitives have been returned to their respective eras, just as you will be. This is acceptable?"

"Huh," said Villar. "I guess. The Doctor cannot get me back to Mexico, the little lady says." He nodded at Zoe. "Better to ride with you than never return at all." He lowered his carbine, and Narvin smiled.

"Excellent. All that remains is to gather the other displaced Humans. I assume that all of those not frozen are also not from this era."

"No," said the Colonel, quickly. "Jenny and Thomas were both born in this time, but are not affected."

Jenny waved, hesitantly. Thomas just folded his arms and watched his father.

"You must have polluted their timelines with artron energy," said Narvin, with disgust. "Very well. I'll just take the fugitives - not you, Koschei, I know you're serving your exile here - and the primitives who obviously don't fit.” Narvin eyed everyone’s appearance, judging them against the crowd. He passed quickly over Zoe and Jenny’s dresses and Thomas’ suit. He paused for a moment at Jamie’s kilt, but eventually that passed muster as well. “You seem to be the only one." Narvin nodded at Villar. “Right, let’s go.”

"Doctor, don't go with him," said Zoe.

"Aye, we can fight him off," said Jamie. "He's just one man."

"One man with all the power the CIA could give him," said the Doctor. "Narvin, what will you do if I try to run?"

"Shoot you," said Narvin, cheerfully. "You'll probably be executed anyway, so I don't mind saving the High Council a trial."

"Oh, Doctor!" said Zoe.

"I have to go," said the Doctor. "It will be worse for us all if I don't."

"You can't be serious," said the War Chief. "We have to get away."

The Doctor looked at him with sad eyes.

"I don't think we can run any longer. Getting to the TARDIS would just play into their hands, now, and there's nowhere to hide. What options do we have left?"

"We must try," snarled the War Chief. He turned and ran, weaving through the still crowd that surrounded them.

Narvin disappeared back into his carriage, reemerging with a ray gun. Ignoring the protests of Zoe and Jamie, he aimed carefully and picked the War Chief off, dropping him as he neared the edge of the time field.

"I did warn him," said Narvin. "Nobody ever listens to me."

"How could you?" demanded Zoe. "Murderer!" Her fists balled up and she started to rush at Narvin, but Jenny held her back, staring at the ray gun and biting her lip.

"I'm sure he's just stunned," said the Doctor.

"No," said Narvin. "If he's willing to waste a regeneration on a foolhardy escape attempt, I'm willing to indulge him."

"That was completely unnecessary!" The Doctor's voice rose immediately from its previous calm tones.

"Don't get yourself into a huff," said Narvin, rolling his eyes. "The War Chief will be fine, once we get him into my TARDIS' zero room. Primitive, retrieve the body."

"My name is Arturo Villar," said Villar. He didn't move.

"Fine, Artooroveeya. Could you _please_ retrieve the body for me? The sooner we're out of here, the sooner you'll be back in your proper time."

"Back with my men, yes?"

"Yes, of course." Narvin watched with satisfaction as Villar grunted and went to collect the War Chief. "Make your goodbyes, Doctor."

"They're going to kill you too!" said Zoe, her eyes glistening.

"You can't let him hurt you," said Jamie, his eyes also suspiciously bright.

"Now, don't worry." The Doctor patted Zoe on the shoulder and then, after a moment, kissed her on the forehead awkwardly. He ignored the Colonel's sudden glower.

"I'm sure the High Council won't do anything drastic." The Doctor smiled, and shook Jamie by the hand. "I'll come back as soon as I am able. The Colonel will take care of you both."

"I will, will I?" said the Colonel. He frowned again as shaking hands with Jamie turned into hugging Jamie.

"Don't be like that," said the Doctor, looking over Jamie's shoulder. "They're good and capable. They'll be able to fend for themselves in no time."

"I can already fend for myself," said Jamie. Zoe gave him a patronizing look.

"Can we hurry up the emotional goodbyes?" asked Narvin. "Wait, I had forgotten for a moment that this is Koschei and his boyfriend that he used to bore us all about. Of course we can't."

"Shut _up_ , Narvin," said the Colonel, through gritted teeth. The Doctor just smiled as he disentangled himself from Jamie.

"I will be back, you know," he said, putting his hands on the Colonel's arms.

"When you're able," said the Colonel, looking the Doctor straight in the eye. "I heard you."

"You're still upset with me," said the Doctor. "You don't get to be upset with me - I'm upset with you!"

"What? Why?"

"Any number of reasons. You took one of my companions on a doomed attempt to steal from the King of England. You're terribly jealous with absolutely no grounds. The War Chief I understand, though it's absurd, but Jamie and Zoe? Honestly?"

"Your friend implied-" The Colonel almost fell into explaining himself, but rallied. "Never mind. You left me on Earth for decades, Doctor, don't forget."

"You've done admirably well for yourself," said the Doctor. "Evaded the law, made a life, settled down with a wife and children which you hide from me..."

"I feel like we've had this conversation before," said the Colonel. "Can we move on to the part where you run off to find the War Chief? Of whom I'm not allowed to be jealous?"

"I didn't say you weren't _allowed_ to be jealous, I said it was _absurd_ to be jealous."

"Omega, Rassilon, and the Other, just kiss each other already." Narvin ran his hands over his face. "I want to leave, not listen to your stupid spats."

"Narvin, I will find you when you're without your toys, and murder you." The Colonel said it quite calmly. "It may take a while, but I can be determined, as you well know."

"I think we'd better do as Narvin says." The Doctor squeezed the Colonel's arms. "Do you think you can set aside our difficulties, just for a moment?"

"I suppose we can straighten everything out when you return." The Colonel smiled.

"Good," said the Doctor, and stood on his toes to kiss him.

Everyone waited, patiently.

The Colonel put his arms around the Doctor's back and leaned into him, bringing their bodies closer together.

"Why?" asked Narvin with despair. "Why did they send me? Why not someone who didn't know Koschei well enough to be embarrassed for us both?"

"I joke about these things," said Thomas, "but I really did not need to see this."

"Thomas," said Jamie, suddenly. "I think your dad's in love with the Doctor."

"Are you always this oblivious?" asked Thomas. "Or do you just have a blind spot when it comes to the Doctor?"

Jamie colored. "What are you trying to say?"

"Oh, be quiet," said Zoe. She looked up at Jenny and squeezed her hand. "I think it's sweet. Don't you, Jenny?"

The Doctor had his hands clasped around the back of the Colonel's neck and was slowly being dipped lower and lower to the ground as the Colonel pressed forward.

"I think that the Doctor's back bends much more than mine does," said Jenny, staring. "And neither of them must need to breathe."

Zoe glared at her.

"Aye, sweet," said Jenny. "Very sweet."

"Just so you know," said Narvin, loudly, "I was planning on going soon, rather than in a hundred years' time."

"I think he's figured out our cunning plan," said the Doctor, pulling away from the Colonel and trying to straighten up. The Colonel just grinned at him, keeping his feet more or less off the ground.

"Better let me down before Narvin gets trigger-happy again," warned the Doctor. A shadow passed over his eyes briefly, despite the humor in his tone.

"Fine," said the Colonel. He released the Doctor, and then steadied him to keep him from overbalancing. "You will come back, though. In less than a couple decades time." His tone hovered between a statement and a plea.

The Doctor just smiled in return, and walked over to Narvin's carriage.

"At long last," said Narvin, not at all under his breath. "Come on, we'll pick up your TARDIS on the way." He grabbed the Doctor's hand and hoisted him into the passenger's compartment, where Villar and the War Chief's body already were.

Narvin ducked back in one last time, stopping only to wave at the Colonel, who just glared. In a moment there was a grinding and groaning noise, and the carriage disappeared.

"Right," said the Colonel. "That's that, then." He quickly hid the lost look that had fallen on his face

"This stopped-time device is wearing off," observed Thomas. Some of the guards were beginning to shudder back to life, followed by the nearest of the crowd.

"Maybe we should leave," said Jenny.

"What happened?" said the King, coming out of the effects of the time field. "Where am I?"

"Your Majesty," said the Colonel, grabbing the King's chin and forcing him to look into his eyes. "I am the Colonel, and you will obey me."

\---

"Let's see," said Narvin, at his console controls. "I'll drop you off first, Doctor, then the primitive - excuse me, _Artooroveeya_ \- and finally the War Chief. Acceptable?"

"Of course," said the Doctor, and leapt at the controls.

"They're on isomorphic," said Narvin. His eyes smiled as the Doctor backed off, sucking on his burnt fingers.

"You can't blame me for trying," said the Doctor.

"I can, though," said Narvin. He sighed, shaking his head. "I really can."

"You must make sure to bring me right back to my men," said Villar. "They cannot wait much longer."

"I assure you, Artooroveeya, I can return you to your bandits at exactly the right time, no matter how long we take. Time travel, you understand?"

"Good," said Villar, stepping back. "Then the Doctor can go first."

"Thank you," said Narvin, with an attempt at infinite patience that sounded more like infinite condescension. "Prepare yourself for your trial, Doctor. It will begin immediately."

"If I must." The Doctor closed his eyes and sat in silence until the TARDIS materialized on Gallifrey. Without a word, Narvin busied himself about the controls, setting it into flight again, but leaving the Doctor and his own TARDIS behind.

"Do not let these law men bother you," said Villar, as he faded away. He pulled on his moustache, solemnly. "Remember, they will never know the joy of being free men, such as we."

"Good luck, Villar," said the Doctor, opening his eyes. "Good luck in your war."

"Stop talking to each other," complained Narvin. "This is very delicate, and your interaction is preventing the particles from disentangl- ah, there we go."

The Doctor and his TARDIS were left alone, at last. He patted her door and looked around the courtroom they had been deposited in. Finally, his eyes lit on the triumvirate of judges that had come to conduct his trial. The Doctor sighed and got up from the floor, putting his thumbs into his lapels.

"I suppose you want me to explain myself?"

"You will have a chance to present for the defense," said one of the judges, a tall, fair-haired man.

"Good," said the Doctor. "I have quite a lot of things to say about all this."

\---

"You will let us all go free," said the Colonel. "A full pardon."

"Yes," said His Majesty. His eyes were glazed, and he was sweating as he attempted to break the Colonel's hypnotic control. "Yes. You shall all go free."

"Good. And nobody coming by in the night to get rid of us as embarrassments to the Crown."

"No," said the King. "No need for that."

"Hurry up, Father," said Thomas. "The guards will be at our throats in a minute."  
Perrott came back to himself, looking wildly around. Jamie grabbed his arm to stop him from running off and disturbing the Colonel's hold on the King. The rest of the crowd was already moving sluggishly.

"And you will give me rulership of England!" said the Colonel, triumphantly.

"What? No! It's mine!" The King glared as the Colonel's control slipped.

"Alright, perhaps just an income and an estate, then," the Colonel said in soothing tones, backtracking a little. "I can settle for that, I suppose."

"Yes," said the King, falling back into the forced calm. "Lands in Ireland. A suitable reward for- for-"

"For not stealing the Crown Jewels," supplied the Colonel.

"For not stealing the Crown Jewels," echoed the King.

"Colonel, they're coming," said Jamie. The Colonel dropped his hands from the King's temples, and the guards grabbed him from behind.

"Stop!" shouted the King. "Unhand this man!"

The guards stared at him blankly. The Colonel just grinned.

"I have granted Colonel Blood and his compatriots a full pardon, and they shall go free! Indeed, I have decided to bestow an estate and an income upon the esteemed Colonel."

The King's voice sounded natural, but the men boggled at his words.

"What?" ventured the captain of the guard. "But, Your Majesty, this is the man who kidnapped the Duke of Ormonde, not to mention your own self."

"Ye-es," said the King, doubtfully. "There is that."

"I'll write the Duke a letter of apology," said the Colonel, exercising the last threads of his power over the King. "My compunction so far exceeds expression, and so on."

"You see," said the King. "He'll write Ormonde an apology. No problem."

"This is ridiculous," said Zoe.

"Be quiet," said Jenny. "They might notice."

\---

The judges took their time deciding on the verdict. They stood in a loose triangle, communicating telepathically in a way that excluded the Doctor. Allowed to remain in the room, the Doctor slumped against a wall, humming tunelessly.

"We are ready to pass sentence," said the leader of the judges. The Doctor stood up straight, and pretended that he didn't care what they decided.

"We were impressed by your arguments about your good intentions in interfering with history. We admit that your hearts are in the right places. Yet this does not mitigate the nature of your crime. We condemn you to forced regeneration and exile. The secret of your TARDIS will be lost to you. We shall return it as we see fit."

"This is sounding terribly familiar," said the Doctor. "Standard punishment these days, is it? Very well. Where do you plan to exile me?"

"Your travels show a great fondness for Earth. We do not wish to cause you undue stress, so we will send you there."

"Your concern is touching," said the Doctor, not completely sarcastically. "If I may, I would prefer to be sent to the seventeenth century. Perhaps, oh, 1671? England?"

"We will confer." The judges turned to each other once more, resuming their silent discourse. The Doctor just stared at the ceiling and twiddled his thumbs.

"Yes," said the lead judge, at last. "We agree to your suggestion. You understand that you must remain on Earth until we reconsider your exile, however."

"Oh, of course," said the Doctor, crossing his fingers behind his back.

"Good. Now, we will allow you to choose your new appearance."

"It will have to be very handsome, just as I am now," warned the Doctor. He prepared to be disappointed.

\---

The TARDIS materialized, and the Doctor staggered to the door as it opened. He was still weak from the pain of the forced regeneration, and he clung to the doorframe in an attempt to stay upright. Finally, he stuck his nose out into the air of the English countryside.

"No," he muttered, "no, this isn't right at all." He peered about, blinking owlishly. "Not the seventeenth century. Twentieth, if I'm not completely mistaken."

A car drove by the big field the TARDIS had landed in.

"Incompetent imbeciles," shouted the Doctor. "You've no more accuracy than- well, me!" He shook his fist at the sky, which meant he had to let go of the TARDIS' doorframe. Dizziness threatened to overwhelm him, and he swayed, dangerously, before collapsing into the grass, face-first.

"Sir? Sir, are you alright?"

The Doctor didn't move, and the UNIT soldier crouched down and shook him, gently.

"Sir? This area is off-limits, I'll- Sir? Damn it." He pulled a radio from his belt. "UNIT HQ, this is Captain Munro. Found unknown man, have to go to hospital. Over."

"Munro, this is the brigadier. What's this about a man? Over."

"Just some bloke, Sir. Collapsed outside a police box, middle of nowhere." Munro paused, waiting for a response. "Oops, sorry. Over."

"Get him to hospital, Munro. I'll be there as quick as I can. _Over_."

"Yes, Sir. Over and out." Munro put his radio away and stared at the Doctor. "What's so special about you, then? Ah, well, up you get." He slung the Doctor's arm over his shoulder, and began the long stumble to his car. "I expect I'll find out soon enough."


	5. Chapter 5

Jamie and Zoe sat together in the Bloods' sitting room. The street sounds of bustling Westminster filtered through the curtained windows, but the air inside held a subdued quality that resisted the incursion.

"So," said Jamie, breaking the tense silence that had hung between them, "how's London?"

"Good," said Zoe. She smiled, faintly. "The firm is doing well enough. We've moved into a nicer area, and we're getting better accounts. It seems nearly a decade is almost enough time to build a reputation."

"What is it you girls do, anyway? I was never what you’d call clear on that," admitted Jamie.

"Miscellaneous services," said Zoe. "Accounting, debt collection, mechanism repair. I'm afraid my skill-set doesn't really translate into any particular job in this era, but I can do quite a lot of things. Jenny's good at filling in the gaps. I do miss the twenty-first century, but we're getting by."

"That's grand," said Jamie, nodding vaguely. "Just grand."

They lapsed into silence again for a few minutes.

"And how is Beth?" asked Zoe, having finally remembered Jamie's wife's name.

"She's fine," said Jamie, and sighed. "She'd have come, of course, but someone has to look after the business. The kids, as well."

"How old are they now? Three and one?"

"John's five, and Cecily's two." Jamie smiled for the first time all day. "I wish I had something that could take pictures, they're such fine kids."

"It's very odd, thinking of you with a wife and children," said Zoe. "A respectable businessman, with his stand at the fishmarket and a crew of men for his boats. I always half-expect to find that you've moved back to Scotland and taken up the sword again."

"Aye, well, it wouldn't be the right war in Scotland for years and years," said Jamie. "I'm happy as I am. I might go say hello to my father after he's born, but I can't think what else. Turns out being from the future isn't the big deal I thought it was."

They sat for a while longer, until one of the servants came in and showed them to the Colonel.

\---

Maria Blood was a handsome woman, even at this stage of her life. Her hair was still red-blond, her back unbowed. The light from the candle, however, illuminated the worry in her face, and her delicate hands were white-knuckled where they wrapped around her husband's own hand. She looked up as Zoe and Jamie entered the bedroom.

"He's awake," she said. "I don't know if he knows what's happening, but he's awake."

"Oh, Colonel," said Zoe. She moved close to the bed, wringing her hands. "I'm so sorry."

"He looks very ill," said Jamie. He clasped Zoe's shoulder, trying to comfort her. "There's no chance he'll get better?"

"I don't think so," said Maria. "The doctors don't have any idea what to do, and Thomas never liked them anyway. Said they didn't know what they were about. Thomas," she called, "Thomas, Zoe and Jamie are here. Thomas?"

The Colonel stirred, shivering, his eyes staring wide, but didn't say a word. Maria sighed.

"We tried to call in the children, but it's difficult. Most of them are out of the country, or unable to come home, all except for Holcroft." She looked back, out of the pool of candlelight, and a man detached himself from the wall.

"Holcroft Blood," he said, holding out his hand to Jamie, and then Zoe. "The youngest son, much to my loss."

He took after Maria in most respects, from hair color to bearing. But there was a gleam in his eye that owed much to the Colonel.

"Hello," said Zoe. "I've heard so much-"

"Please don't try to be polite," said Holcroft. "I know Father didn't actually say anything about me. He never did have much use for any of us except Tom."

"Don't talk about your father like that," scolded Maria. "Have some respect."

"Like he'd care," said Holcroft. He crossed his arms and looked away, ignoring the sick body on the bed.

"He tried to do right by you," said Maria. She gripped the Colonel's hand tighter. "He got you that appointment with the government."

"He took an interest once he realized he was stuck here," corrected Holcroft. "I doubt he'd have even said goodbye if his Doctor hadn't been caught."

Zoe shifted uncomfortably, and Jamie stepped back a pace, preparing to leave if need be. Holcroft preempted him by simply walking out, pulling the door quietly shut behind him.

"Holcroft," said Maria, too softly and too late. She sighed. "I'm sorry. You shouldn't have had to deal with that. Thomas just wanted to see you two before the end."

"We understand," said Jamie, trying to cover his secondary embarrassment. "This must be hard for everyone."

"I think it's worse for poor Holcroft," said Maria. "He's right that Thomas never had much time for the younger children. I just wish he didn't have so much resentment." She straightened the bedclothes. "Blaming Thomas for wanting to get away from Earth after a few years is like blaming a convict for wanting to escape his prison."

"I can't imagine wanting to leave my children," said Jamie. "They're one of the best parts of my life."

"Children grow up and go away on their own, Jamie," said Maria. "Thomas once told me that, on his planet, children left home by the age of eight. I don't think he ever really understood that his sons and daughters needed him even after they turned nine."

"Cultural differences can be hard," offered Zoe. "I'm always doing something or another wrong."

Heedless of their discussion, the Colonel tossed and turned on the bed. Finally, Jamie had to hold his shoulders until he calmed down.

"I just wish we could do something," said Zoe. She sniffed and rubbed at her eyes. "It feels wrong to see the Colonel like this. He was always so strong."

"He's a good man," said Maria. "I'm sure he'll find happiness in what comes after." She smiled, suddenly. "Did he ever tell you how we met?"

Jamie shook his head, and Zoe followed suit.

"He'd met my brother on the battlefield, you know, fighting for Cromwell. Irish parliamentarians, the lowest of the low. Well, my brother was, and Thomas was pretending to be. They got leave together, and my brother introduced us when they came to visit. Thomas proposed almost at once."

"Love at first sight?" suggested Zoe.

"Hardly. I wanted out of the house, Thomas wanted the dowry and some help with 'our confusing, yet quaint customs.' I said yes after he'd told me he was an alien. I was still young and romantic enough that teaching a visitor from the stars about _love_ seemed a fine adventure." She looked up at Jamie and Zoe. "I hope I'm not boring you."

"Well," said Jamie, eyeing the door.

"Of course not," said Zoe. "So you were married?"

"Aye, despite what my father thought of it all. Marriage," said Maria, thoughtfully, "was another thing Thomas never really understood. I know he liked me then, and likes me now, but he was never jealous or possessive. He didn't demand anything at all, or expect me to conform to his wishes. I had to do my best to return the favor. I do love him, you know." She patted the Colonel's hand. "For all that he left me to take care of the children while he kidnapped dukes and hid from the law."

The Colonel muttered something, becoming more lucid.

"What's that?" asked Maria. She leaned in close. "Thomas?"

"I said, at least it gave you time to collect lovers, you poor home-body." The Colonel's voice was raw and ragged, and he coughed as he spoke.

"Colonel?" said Jamie, trying to remind them that he and Zoe were still there.

"Jamie," said the Colonel, struggling up. "Zoe. I have to- I must make sure you'll be alright, once I'm... gone."

"We'll be fine," said Zoe. "Don't you worry about us."

"Good," said the Colonel. "Good. I'm glad you're here." He laid back down as coughs and shudders racked his body. "I meet death unafraid," he said, hazily. "I've still got lives left to live- So many lives left to-" His head tipped back, and the breath rattled in his throat.

"Oh, _Colonel_ ," said Zoe, starting to tear up.

"He's gone," said Jamie. He pulled Zoe into a hug. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Blood."

"Don't cry, dears," said Maria. "He was sick for a while, and he wasn't enjoying himself. He'll be at peace now." She stood up, wiping at her own eyes. "I have to go tell Holcroft. Make arrangements."

She left the room and closed the door. Alone, Jamie and Zoe moved apart.

"I wish-" said Zoe, "Oh, I wish so many things."

"I know," said Jamie. "Wait, what's happening?"

The Colonel's body was glowing, faintly, and, as they watched, he started to change, features melting and rearranging. Zoe stepped toward him, then back, her hand at her mouth. Jamie just stood and gaped.

"What do I look like?" said the Colonel, at last. " _I_ wish that proper mirrors weren’t so expensive."

"What just happened?" said Jamie.

"I regenerated," said the Colonel. "Now, it is imperative that no one else see me like this. I trust you two will help me get out of here?" He got out of the bed, wobbling. Zoe caught his arm.

"Of course," she said. "But why? What's wrong? Why aren't you dead?"

"My people can change bodies when they use up an old one," said the Colonel. He tottered to a wardrobe and flung it open. Shaking off Zoe's hand, he stripped off his sick-clothes, and began dressing in a black suit.

"But you sound completely different," said Jamie. "I mean, you've still got the Irish accent, but that's about it."

"I might be stuck with that," mused the Colonel. He swung around and half-fell to the ground, where he pulled on a pair of shoes that were far too large for his newly-small feet. "I learned English in Ireland, when I was without my TARDIS' translator. But, as for the rest of it, a new body comes with a new manifestation of my personality. It's still me in here, but it may not seem like it to you. I don't know yet, though. It's still settling." He lurched to his feet, forcing Zoe to steady him again.

"But why didn't you tell your poor wife?" asked Zoe, looking disapproving. "She was very worried."

"Ah, Maria," said the Colonel. He had the grace to look uncomfortable. "I didn't really want to get sick, but it was convenient. I'm afraid I've racked up a series of debts, including some court-ordered damages. Death seemed a better escape than actually trying to pay, but I'm sure Maria wouldn't see it that way. She'll get over me, in time. By the way, you'll need to help me find a corpse to bury in my coffin. Can't have people thinking that I faked my death."

"But you have faked your death," said Jamie.

"Exactly," said the Colonel, as he opened the door. "But I don't want anyone to _know_."

"I see you're up and around," said Maria, right outside.

"My dear!" said the Colonel. He waved his arms extravagantly, nearly hitting Zoe and causing him to lose his balance. Maria caught him as Zoe let go. "I was just coming to see you."

"I heard everything," said Maria. "Just going to run off, were you? I'll get over it, in time?"

"A little joke," said the Colonel. "Ahah."

"I think you forgot who you were dealing with," said Maria. "You told me you were at the end of your regeneration cycle, you ass."

"I may have overestimated my number of deaths," said the Colonel. "Only by one or two, a simple mistake."

"I came all the way down from Ireland," complained Holcroft. He leaned over his mother to better glare at the Colonel. "This is absolutely typical. A complete lack of consideration for those of us trying to make an honest living."

"I just died, and already you're whinging at me," said the Colonel. "I have to warn you that I'm currently highly impressionable. You might scar me for the rest of this life."

"Oh, please," said Holcroft, rolling his eyes.

"We do need a body to bury," said Maria. "Thomas, Michael Burman died four days ago, and he was about your height. Or," she looked the Colonel up and down, "the height you used to be. You're not the fine figure of a man I married, you know."

"Thank you," said the Colonel, sourly. "What did I say about highly impressionable? I had hoped to avoid a height complex in this regeneration, not that you care."

"Not a bit," said Maria, cheerfully. "But it was only a little joke. Ahah."

"You're taking this very much in stride," said Zoe. "Isn't this a surprise?"

"I had my suspicions," said Maria. "I hope you don't talk in your sleep again this time around, Thomas."

"Mother, if you would have shared your inside knowledge, I could have stayed at home," said Holcroft.

"No, you'll need to be at the funeral for it to be convincing," said the Colonel. "And you can help steal Burman's body! We'll bond!"

"I don't want to bond anymore," said Holcroft. "Especially not over criminal acts."

"This is why I don't like you as much as Thomas," said the Colonel. Holcroft's expression got even worse.

"Er, parenting tip," said Jamie, breaking in. "You're not actually supposed to tell them who your favorite is."

"Sorry," said the Colonel. "Can't I get any leeway at all for dying just a moment ago?"

"No," said Maria and Holcroft together.

"But I suppose I'll stay," added Holcroft, a little less bitterly. "I have the days off anyway, I might as well use them."

"Well, everything's settled, then," said Jamie, grinning. "How long do we have to wait before we can go and rob us a grave?"

"A while, unless you want to do it in broad daylight," pointed out Zoe. "Why don't we sit down, have some tea, and wait for the Colonel to finish 'settling.' He looks ill."

"I'm fine," said the Colonel, freeing himself at last from his wife and striding past Holcroft and into the corridor, where he promptly ran into a wall.

"I see your point," said Maria. "Thomas, you'll need to turn left. No, more."

"Some excuse for an adventure this is," complained Jamie.

"I think I don't mind adventures if they come with tea," said Holcroft.

\---

The headstone said "Colonel Thomas Blood. Departed this world on 24 August, the year of our Lord 1680." The Doctor kicked it, irritably, and stuffed his hands in his pockets, completely ruining the line of his trousers.

"You even managed to get your fake military rank on the inscription," he said. His voice was choked, a little, and he didn't bother to clear it. "I suppose they wouldn't deny a dead man, would they?" He drew and handkerchief from the pocket of his velvet coat and used it to blow his nose.

"I did try to get back," the Doctor continued. "But the Time Lords exiled me to the wrong century, even though I asked for this one. It took me absolutely ages to get my TARDIS working again. Still not entirely accurate, as you see." He sighed. "No help from the War Chief, of course. He escaped custody, by the way, though he won't tell me how. Your friend Narvin's very upset about it. He got demoted, and he keeps stopping by to complain. Seems to think it's my fault, somehow, for not warning him that the Mexican Reform War is a very chaotic place. And then, of course, the War Chief turns up to make my life exceedingly difficult. I wouldn't tell you that if you could hear me, I suppose. You always were jealous of him. He's got one of those, what do you call them, Fu Manchu moustaches. _And_ muttonchops. He looks absolutely ridiculous, but he won't take my advice. I always thought you couldn't go wrong with a nice shave. Not your beard of course. I always liked your beard." The Doctor stopped talking as his tone faded into insincerity. He folded up his handkerchief and thrust it back into his front pocket, then looked up at the sky, shading his eyes from the bright, cheerful sun.

"Isn't it always supposed to rain at funerals?" he asked of no one.

"It did rain," said a man standing behind him. "You're nearly a week late."

The Doctor spun around.

"Koschei? I mean, Colonel? Is that you?"

"It is indeed," said the Colonel, spreading his arms as if to show himself off.

He was shorter, with a higher forehead and a neater beard. His nose was still oversized, as were his clothes.

"Did you just regenerate?" said the Doctor. "Or have you just not bothered to get a decent suit?"

"We can't all be fashion-plates," said the Colonel. "I do like your new body, though. Ruffles and grey hair rather suit you. Did you regenerate like that, or did you grow into it?"

"It hasn't been very long for me," said the Doctor. "I'm glad to see you well, by the way."

"Long enough to start flirting with the War Chief again, I hear," said the Colonel, ignoring the second comment.

"Ah," said the Doctor. "You were listening."

"I did," confirmed the Colonel. "It was revealing, but not as much as I had hoped. Some people get confessions at their gravesides, but all I seem to rate is a pack of gossip."

"Look, old chap," said the Doctor, running his hands through his hair. "What do you want me to say? Come away with me? What about your wife?"

"You didn't seem much concerned with her last time," said the Colonel.

"Different body, different sentiments. This me is more inclined to the common courtesy of not stealing people's spouses," said the Doctor.

"She's dumped me." The Colonel looked both amused and aggrieved. "Said it was quite clear that we'd vowed 'til death do us part,' and that she thought she could be a very happy widow. I'm welcome to come around, she says, but not on Thursdays."

"Why not on Thursdays?"

"The new butcher," said the Colonel, "closes shop early on Thursdays. It's Thursday today, actually. Anyway, I'm perfectly free to leave this time and place, if anyone would like to offer." He looked around, as if expecting someone else to pop out of the underbrush with a signed invitation.

"Well, that is what I came for," said the Doctor. "Before you startled me by being dead." He offered the Colonel a hand and then, when it was taken, pulled the Colonel into an embrace.

"Not right now," said the Colonel, stepping out of the Doctor's arms.

"Whyever not?"

"They're coming to dig up my grave," said the Colonel. He pointed at a gang of men with shovels coming into view. "My creditors, you see. I came to watch, make sure everything was in order. Anyway, we'd better get away."

"Before they find out you're still alive?" The Doctor started to walk toward the nearby clump of trees he had landed in.

"Give me some credit. The body in that grave is convincing enough. No, I just don't think men hugging in public would go down very well. They have houses in London for that sort of thing."

They were in amongst the trees now, and the Doctor caught the Colonel by the shoulders.

"Speaking from experience?" he asked, mildly.

The Colonel laughed, lightly. "Who's jealous now? No, not from experience."

"I don't see how you can accuse me of being jealous when I already know that you have a wife. Or had one. I am completely calm about that fact."

"And seven children," pointed out the Colonel. "Thomas is already in his second regeneration, living in America with children of his own. I'm a grandfather."

"Thomas not the apothecary's son, then?" asked the Doctor, after a pause.

"It seems not," said the Colonel. "Did you really think he was?"

"I was actually hoping that your wife was a beard," admitted the Doctor. "It helped that you kept talking about her taking up with other men."

"You _are_ jealous," said the Colonel. "I'd say pretending that I never have sex with other people - even ones I'm married to - falls under that label."

"It merely makes me uncomfortable," said the Doctor. "I wouldn't go so far as to call it jealousy."

"Don't worry," said the Colonel. "I fully intend to have sex with you again soon."

"You do, do you?" said the Doctor. "Yet you keep talking instead of responding to my advances."

"I've got a lot to say in this regeneration," said the Colonel. "I was a little laconic last time, but I think I got it out of my system-" The Doctor finally gave up and kissed the Colonel to shut him up. Deprived of speech, the Colonel demonstrated his opinion eloquently by latching on to the Doctor's neck and pulling him down for more, and the whole thing went on for some time.

"TARDIS," gasped the Doctor, when they finally broke apart. "I am very glad that you're not dead."

"Agreed on the second point, but not on the first," said the Colonel. "Aren't you forgetting something? A pair of your companions?"

"Jamie and Zoe," said the Doctor. "Of course. They're still stuck here."

"I didn't have any transportation for them," confirmed the Colonel. "But we don't have to visit them right away." He raised his eyebrows.

"Don't be ridiculous," said the Doctor. "We can't delay, especially not for that. What would they think of me?" He began to stride out of the trees.

"We wouldn't have to tell them," said the Colonel, but he followed all the same. "We could say you'd just appeared. Where are we going?"

"I don't know," said the Doctor. "Where did you say Zoe and Jamie lived?"

"I didn't, but turn left at the road." The Colonel pointed. "You're in luck, today. Zoe lives further north, near the new developments in Soho."

"With Jamie, I assume?"

"No. Well, yes, but only this week. He came down from Ipswich while I was dying, and then brought his wife and children down for my funeral."

"Wife?" said the Doctor, incredulously. " _Children_?"

"I see," said the Colonel, looking up at the sky as if hoping for help. "It's not just me you can't stand moving on. It's everyone."

"I was just surprised," said the Doctor. "A small lapse. Ignore it. How much further?"

"Quite a ways," said the Colonel. "You're a bit of a nuisance, you know. These are new feet."

"Oh, shut up. I'd offer you a lift in the TARDIS, but we'd probably end up another five years out. I've had a lot of trouble navigating this century."

"I'd noticed," said the Colonel. "Believe me."

"Don't take that tone with me," said the Doctor. "I was stuck on Earth as well, after my exile."

"Really?" asked the Colonel. "For how long? Ten years? Twenty? Perhaps thirty."

"Only for a couple years," admitted the Doctor. "I suppose it's not really comparable."

" _Thirty-five years_ ," said the Colonel, relishing the words so much that he nearly ran into a cart that was going through a crossing. "My last regeneration never even left Earth."

"Why is that, by the way?" asked the Doctor. "You had plans to do so before I appeared, and presumably you could have continued them after I was captured."

"You said you'd return," said the Colonel, nobly. "I was waiting for you."

"If you say so. I didn't think you had that much faith in me."

"Well, I do."

They walked in silence for a moment.

"Your plots all failed, didn't they?" The Doctor looked studiously at the street.

"Yes, fine, they did." The Colonel spat the words angrily. "You've found me out. I don't know why you bothered to come back for someone so pathetic."

"Don't take it that way," said the Doctor. He put his arm around the Colonel's shoulder, in a manly, companionable way. Somehow he segued from that into squeezing the Colonel's shoulder, in a manly, sexual way. "You're a very worthwhile person who, incidentally, left me hanging in my last regeneration. I had every reason to try and find you again."

  
"That makes a change from last time," muttered the Colonel. He shoved sullenly at the Doctor's arm but didn't actually push him away.

"Let me put it this way," said the Doctor. "Koschei the CIA operative was very dear to me, but we got into fights quite often and he wouldn't see sense about my need to leave. Colonel Blood the exiled criminal mastermind may have his own problems, but we get along much better when we're not indulging our nostalgia for conflict. More to the point, I knew where he lived."

"How very flattering," said the Colonel. His tone wavered between sincerity and sarcasm. "Why don't you concern yourself with preparing to reunite with your companions? Ready yourself for the shock of how much they've matured?"

"Oh, they won't have changed," said the Doctor. "Good old Jamie and Zoe."

\---

The woman who answered the door at the nice house outside Soho was slight and cheerful, her dark hair mostly covered by a white cloth cap. It took the Doctor a moment to recognize her.

"Zoe?"

"Doctor?" The woman's eyes widened. "You've changed bodies as well!"

"You've grown up," marveled the Doctor. "Or grown down. You're much shorter than you were before."

"I think it's just your perspective that's changed," said Zoe. "Come inside, hello Colonel. Jamie!"

"Just a moment!"

The Doctor stepped into the entryway, followed by the Colonel. Presently sturdy man wearing a kilt and carrying a little girl joined them.

"Jamie!" said the Doctor. "And who is this?"

"Doctor!" said Jamie. He let go of the toddler in shock, but she clung to his neck until he'd regained his grip. "Uh, this is my daughter, Cecily."

"She looks just like you," said the Doctor, leaning down to tweak her nose. Cecily grinned back at him.

"She looks more like her mother," said Jamie, automatically. "When did you get here?"

"Quite recently," said the Doctor. "The Colonel intercepted me at his gravesite."

"He insisted on coming straight here," said the Colonel. "It's only my luck that you're both in London at the moment, or he would have wanted to walk to Suffolk next."

"Doctor, you've got to meet my son, John, and my wife, Beth," said Jamie. "I've told them all about you."

"You are staying for dinner, of course," said Zoe. "Jenny will be glad to see you again."

"I suppose," said the Doctor. "I hadn't planned on making this a long visit. Jenny?"

"My girlfriend, Doctor. Remember, we ended up kissing right in front of you?"

"Did you? I must have been busy." The Doctor thought back. "Wait. Yes. She was very tall. Perhaps not so tall now," he mused. "Everyone does seem to have shrunk."

"Hey!" said Jamie.

"I tried to tell you," said Zoe. "You're quite a bit taller than you used to be."

"That makes sense," agreed the Doctor. "But the Colonel has definitely shrunk."

"I got enough of that when I first regenerated," said the Colonel. "I don't need to hear it from you as well."

Cecily giggled, and reached her arms out to the Doctor, who took her, gingerly.

"Funny man," she said, hands fisting in his ruffles.

"Cecily, that's the _Doctor_ ," said Jamie. He smiled nervously, with the air of a man who isn't sure if he actually trusts his old friends with his children.

"Funny _Doctor_ ," said Cecily, imitating Jamie's accent.

"That's right," said the Doctor, trying to regain his ruffles without dropping her. The Colonel sighed and took Cecily away, setting her on the ground.

"Bad Colonel!" she said, pulling on his breeches. "Up!"

"You'll have to stand on your own two legs," the Colonel frowned down at her. "It builds character."

"Up!" said Cecily, tugging harder.

"Say you'll stay for dinner," said Zoe. "You can't just leave right away. Not after all these years."

"I had hoped to take you two with me," said the Doctor, ruefully. "But you seem well settled."

"Maybe I'd have gone, five years ago," said Jamie. "Before Beth and the children. But I'm happy here."

Zoe had an odd look on her face, and the Doctor was going to ask her if something was wrong. He was distracted, however, when the Colonel bumped into him, knocking them both into the wall.

"Let _go_ ," said the Colonel, ignoring the Doctor's protests.

“Terribly sorry,” said the Doctor, pushing the Colonel away, “but may I point out that it was you who bumped into me?”

“I wasn’t talking to you,” said the Colonel, trying not to step on the little girl that was still attached to his leg. “Let go, you nuisance.”

"Up!" said Cecily. Releasing the Colonel's trousers, she yanked on his coat.

"Here, you can just have it," said the Colonel, struggling out of the garment. It fell on top of Cecily, covering her completely.

"Oh dear," said Zoe. Jamie just laughed.

"Hey!" said Cecily, crossly. The Colonel sighed and picked her up at last, coat and all.

"I'll stay for dinner," said the Doctor.

\---

"The mutton is delicious," said the Doctor.

"Thank you," said Beth. "It's my grandmother's recipe."

"I wonder if I ever met her," said the Doctor. "You remind me very strongly of someone."

"He's never going to figure it out," said the Colonel to Zoe, quietly. "He's completely oblivious."

Zoe giggled. "He does seem to be having some trouble."

The Doctor stared at Beth. She was short and a little plump, with deep laugh lines. Her messy dark hair was pulled back, making it look as if it had been cropped off at the ears.

"You're sure we've never met?" he asked.

"As far as I remember," said Beth.

"Let it rest, Doctor," said Jamie, his cheeks red. "Have some more turnips."

"You see?" said the Colonel. "He'll still be wondering, right up until he forgets all about it."

"It's probably for the best," said Zoe. "I'm sure the Doctor doesn't want to know that he used to be Jamie's 'type.'" Her fingers sketched tiny quote-marks under the table.

"Give!" said Cecily from the Colonel's lap, grabbing for his plate. The Colonel managed to keep the food from toppling over them both, and passed Cecily the piece of bread she'd been reaching for.

"You're going to break something," said John, from the Colonel’s other side. His voice was solemn with all the wisdom of his five years. "Careful."

"She won't listen to you," said the Colonel, sighing. "It's the curse of being sensible."

"I don't think anyone's ever accused you of being sensible," said the Doctor. He reached across the table to get a second helping of mutton, and nearly knocked over the gravy. The Colonel reached out and stabilized the tureen while Jenny pushed the mutton closer to the Doctor's hand.

Cecily chuckled through a mouthful of bread, sending crumbs flying all over the Colonel's breeches.

"I can see why Jamie doesn't want to leave, with such lovely children and a dear wife," said the Doctor, gallantly. "He's not the first companion I've lost to marriage, but this is certainly the first time I've actually gotten to sit with the resulting family. I'm glad it could be such a good one."

"I'm glad you approve," said Beth, amused.

"And Zoe," continued the Doctor, "you've found such a nice girl in Jenny. I completely understand if you also wish to remain."

"Actually," said Zoe, "I'd like to take you up on your offer. Jenny as well, of course."

"What? Well, the more the merrier." The Doctor beamed. "It'll be just like old times."

"Not quite," said the Colonel, looking as if more was definitely not merrier. "Perhaps Zoe needs a moment to discuss this with Jenny?"

"We talked before dinner," said Jenny. "We're capable of having grown-up discussions without being prompted. Anyway, Zoe didn't mean we plan on traveling."

"I don't quite see what you're saying," said the Doctor.

"Jenny and I just want a lift to more enlightened times. Enlightened on both the subjects of personal relationships and of hygiene." Zoe smiled, a hint of strain creeping into the edges. "I've lived here for a decade, and we've made a stab at a life. We're doing well. But I'm afraid I rather miss the twenty-first century, and Jenny's agreed to give it a try."

"I want to go to space again," supplied Jenny. "I don't mind starting over."

"I'm sure I can get you there," said the Doctor, heartiness covering disappointment. "How soon can we leave?"

"Give me a day to wrap things up," said Zoe. "Jamie can help, can't you?"

"Sure," said Jamie. "Especially if the Colonel can baby-sit."

"Of course he can!" said the Doctor. "This all sounds perfect."

"Oh yes," said the Colonel. "Perfect."

Cecily made another grab for his plate and pulled the whole thing on to them. The Colonel caught the plate before it hit the ground, and then glowered among the remains of his meal.

"I told you," said John, scolding his sister. "Now look at you."

Cecily ate a turnip off of her dress.

"He's very good with children," confided the Doctor to Beth. "Seven of his own, as he keeps reminding me."

"I didn't exactly raise them," pointed out the Colonel. "I was in hiding."

The Doctor ignored him, chatting with Beth and Jamie. The Colonel picked bits of sheep out of his lap.

"Don't do that again," he said to Cecily. "If you want something, ask for it."

"Can I have some of your beer?" asked John, politely.

"No," said the Colonel. "I think I'm going to need that. But thank you for asking."

\---

The Doctor waited outside as the Colonel said goodbye to his wife. After spending yesterday helping Zoe pack, the Doctor was tired, irrespective of how much he had actually helped. He'd said farewell to Jamie and been ready to leave, but the Colonel had insisted on a quick stop.

Now the Doctor loitered in front of the nice townhouse, alternating between pacing and wringing his hands.

"Dear me," said the Colonel, as he stepped back out into the street. "What's the matter with you?"

"Nothing," said the Doctor. He stopped moving, standing up straight and pasting on a smile. "How is Mary?"

"Maria," corrected the Colonel. "She's fine. She's coming out in a minute, since you seem so averse to leaving the street."

"Oh, I don't mind," said the Doctor, clenching his teeth around the lie. "I just thought you would want to go in alone, at first."

"Of course you did," said the Colonel. "Come in, then."

The Doctor stepped inside as the Colonel vacated the doorway. He was almost immediately confronted by Maria Blood, he had been waiting.

"Doctor," she shook his hand, warmly. "You won't believe how much I've heard about you."

"All of it good, I hope."

"No, not really." Maria quirked her lips. "But we shouldn't dwell on that, should we? I do hope you and Thomas will be happy."

"Thomas?" asked the Doctor. "Isn't he in America or something?

"Not my son, Doctor," said the Colonel. "Colonel Thomas Blood, you recall?"

"I could hardly forget such a gauche pulp-fiction style of a name," said the Doctor. "I merely hadn't expected you to be using the least objectionable part of it."

"I felt that it was reasonable to be on first-name basis with one's spouse."

"Really? May I call you Thomas?"

The Colonel shook his head in a prelude to a vehement no, but Maria broke in with a wide grin.

"You've proposed, then? When's the wedding?"

"No, no, no," said the Doctor, hurriedly. "I wasn't trying to imply that I was his spouse, I was just-"

Maria laughed, not bothering to cover her mouth. She just put her hands on her hips and laughed, fully. The Colonel cringed, indulgently, and the Doctor looked bemused.

"You are a pair, aren't you? Well, off you get," she said, waving the Colonel and the Doctor out of the door. "Mind you stop by again, see the children and whatever grandchildren there are by then."

"Goodbye," said the Colonel. He kissed his wife on the cheek and followed the Doctor out.

They ambled in silence toward Tothill Fields, where the TARDIS was parked and Zoe and Jenny were waiting for them.

"I'm really not proposing," said the Doctor, when they were nearly halfway there.

"I know," said the Colonel, mildly.

"I don't want you coming into this with false expectations."

"I'm not." The Colonel rolled his eyes. "Don't worry."

"You say that now, but back at home you would have-"

"I've changed a lot since then." The Colonel cut the Doctor off. "Having a more casual relationship was rather eye-opening. I've come to understand that unreasonable expectations can be death to an otherwise completely satisfying union."

"That's very mature of you," said the Doctor.

"Thank you."

"More mature than I recall you acting last time I was here," the Doctor pointed out. "Arguing with the War Chief, glowering at Zoe and Jamie."

"I've changed since then as well, Doctor," snapped the Colonel. He slowed his anger, forced a calm smile. "Surely you learned something during your own exile?"

"Yes, of course."

They walked in silence for a while longer.

"Well?"

"I learned how to function within a military bureaucracy and how to defend against several species of aliens, not least Humankind. Not as profound as your own achievements, I admit, but far more practical."

"Oh, well done, Doctor," said the Colonel. "I'll have you know that I've accomplished plenty of practical deeds while on Earth."

"Oh yes? Any successful plans? Perhaps you managed to actually steal the crown jewels after all."

"Not as such." The Colonel hesitated. "It rather depends on how you define success."

They walked in silence for a little longer, until they could see the patch of trees the TARDIS was in. The Doctor waved at Jenny and Zoe, who were already there.

"I hope they haven't been waiting long. We could have been here ages ago, if you hadn't spent so long with Maria."

"I wanted to say goodbye." The Colonel shrugged. "It's important to do things properly. You wouldn't understand."

"Let's not argue," said the Doctor. "Listen here, we should be grateful that we have another chance together, not wasting time dwelling on the mistakes of the past."

"How very convenient for you," the Colonel said, loftily. "Since they're almost entirely all your mistakes. But my hard-earned 'maturity' also extends to forgiving and forgetting."

"That's a new one," said Jenny, in hearing-distance now. "How many times have we heard the story of 'the Doctor's terrible flight,' Zoe?"

"Twenty or thirty times at least, for my part," said Zoe. "That's why I tend to avoid drinking with you, Colonel."

"'I understand why he left, but why couldn't he say goodbye?'" quoted Jenny, affecting a maudlin slur. "'I wouldn't've stopped him! Well, I would've, I would've broken his legs to keep him with me, but it would've been for his own good! My hearts are beyond repair, even after his too-short return.'"

"You mock my pain," said the Colonel, with rather less humor than he had attempted to show.

"Why don't we just leave?" said the Doctor. He unlocked the TARDIS door. "Everyone ready?"

"Oh, yes," said Zoe. She carried her bags in. "You've redecorated, Doctor!"

"Yes, do you like it?" The Doctor helped Jenny with the last of the luggage. "Here we go, my dear. Watch your step."

"We're never mentioning this again," hissed the Colonel, as he followed the Doctor inside. "Never."

"I should hope not. A fresh beginning, that's what we need. I'll have Zoe and Jenny dropped off at their new home soon enough, and we can get started."

\---

It only took the Doctor three or four tries to get Zoe and Jenny to more or less the right time and place.

"You're a much better navigator than you used to be," said Zoe, hugging him goodbye. "We never knew where we'd end up next."

"He still managed to land us into trouble every other time so far," said Jenny. "I'm keeping an eye out for invading aliens here as well."

"I'm sure it will be fine," said the Doctor. "This is the calmest patch of space-age Earth a couple could hope for."

"Good," said Zoe. "Jenny will need some time to adapt, just as I did." She squeezed Jenny's hand, smiling "Goodbye, Doctor. Colonel."

"Goodbye, my dear girls," said the Doctor. The Colonel waved to them, and then they were out of the doors, two more new arrivals on the first civilian orbital space-station.

"You realize there's an incursion with Space Pirates here in less than a day?" asked the Colonel.

"As I recall, they beat them off with no casualties," said the Doctor. "Anyway, periods of great confusion are the best time to blend in. That's been my experience, anyway."

"I can believe that," muttered the Colonel. He fiddled with the console and, at the Doctor's nod, set the TARDIS into flight.

"The whole place to ourselves," said the Doctor. "What shall we do now?"

"I don't know," said the Colonel. "It's been a long time since I was off Earth. All of time and space at our fingertips." He ran his hands absently over the console, as he had been doing since they'd left England a week ago.

"I _said_ ," said the Doctor, "we've got the _whole place to ourselves_ now."

"Hm?"

"Sex!" said the Doctor, exasperatedly. "We've been back together for a week, and we haven't had any. Fresh beginnings are meant to incorporate the reacquaintance of bodies."

"Where did you read that, a romance novel?" The Colonel didn't turn away from the controls.

"Don't deflect," said the Doctor. "This is serious."

"It's your own fault," said the Colonel. He fiddled with the dials until they were stopped and sitting in space. "I don't see why we couldn't have had sex in one of the spare bedrooms while Zoe and Jenny were on the other end of the TARDIS."

"It would feel wrong," explained the Doctor, for about the fiftieth time.

"It's not as if _they_ were celibate."

"I really don't want to think about that, thank you," said the Doctor. "It's as if," he tried to explain, "one of your children came home to visit, after years of being apart. You don't want to hurt them."

"Ah," said the Colonel. "That happened to Maria and I, once or twice."

"And what did you do?" prompted the Doctor.

"Had sex. It's a natural thing, Doctor, no need to be squeamish."

"I think I'm done with this conversation," said the Doctor. "I'm just going to go to my bedroom. You're welcome to join me, if you can get over the need to be right." He walked out.

The Colonel checked the gauges, and adjusted the TARDIS until she could hang in space for an indefinite period of time. He set up a forcefield that would deflect space debris. He put away a pile of nets and bait that had been left over from two days ago, when they'd had to capture some dinosaurs that had been let loose in London. Finally, he turned off the console room lights, and ambled toward the Doctor's rooms. Once there, he leaned against the open door, studying the Doctor as the man turned a page in his book.

"Finally decided to come to bed, have you?" said the Doctor.

"Yes," said the Colonel. "Though I would like it to be understood that I'm never going to get over my need to be right, especially when you're so patently wrong. Colonel Blood the criminal mastermind isn't necessarily as agreeable as you'd like him."

"I really don't care anymore, you nitwit," said the Doctor, fondly. He closed his book and set it on the bedside table. "Come here."

The Colonel sat down on the bed and found himself pulled into the Doctor's arms. They kissed, briefly, and then the Doctor had his mouth on the Colonel's neck, and the Colonel was running his hands down to pull the Doctor's shirt out of his trousers and the TARDIS shook as something rammed into it.

"What was that?" The Doctor broke away, half-getting up. The Colonel held on to him, doggedly.

"I'm sure it was nothing. Don't worry about it."

"This is the War Chief!" The TARDIS comm system screeched into life. "You are trapped, Doctor!"

"We've got to get to the console room," said the Doctor. "Make some kind of evasive action."

"I enhanced the forcefield," said the Colonel. "Nobody can get in. Why don't we deal with it in about a half an hour?"

"I can't believe you're suggesting that we just carry on." The Doctor looked flabbergasted. "Listen to me, one simply does not have sex while one's enemies are battering down the door."

"I just told you, he can't get in."

"That's completely beside the point. Anyway, if you hadn't spent so much time fiddling about after I scolded you earlier this evening we could have had it off by now."

"Doctor?" said the comm. "Are you there? Doctor?"

"It's only polite to send a reply," said the Doctor.

"Oh, I have some ideas for that," growled the Colonel. He got up and stalked off to the console room, leaving the Doctor to follow.

"Piss off!" said the Colonel, grabbing the microphone attached to the console. "We're busy."

" _Koschei_? What are you doing there?" said the War Chief.

"Being _busy_ ," said the Colonel. "Go bother Narvin. I hear he's your back-up for annoyance purposes."

"I've got a whole fleet of Draconians out here," complained the War Chief. "You can't just expect me to turn around and leave."

"Hang around if you like. We'll get back to you when we have time."

"When you have _time_?" squawked the War Chief. The Colonel deactivated the comm's speakers.

"There," he said, turning to where the Doctor was watching him. "Polite enough for you?"

"Not quite what I had in mind, but effective," admitted the Doctor. "I imagine he'll either get bored and go away, or collect the TARDIS in one of his ships. But your forcefield won't last forever if he starts pounding at it."

"It'll last a half an hour," said the Colonel. "I’ll show that man that he has no business chasing after you."

"Touchy," said the Doctor, but he allowed himself to be dragged away. "You know, I don't think you're anywhere near as secure in our relationship as you claim to be."

"I'm relying on experience, Doctor. Experience with the War Chief teaches me that having sex with you is infinitely preferable to wasting my time talking to him."

"New beginning," reminded the Doctor. "Though I take your point."

“And then after we’ve finished,” the Colonel continued talking over his shoulder as he navigated the corridors, “we can devise some cunning plan to get out of here without seeing the War Chief at _all_. I’m still considering it, but I believe if we simply dematerialize straight away, just before the forcefield lifts, nothing can prevent us. Surely we can take some precautions to ensure he won’t be able to follow us.”

“Wait a moment.” The Doctor stopped moving, just outside his bedroom. “You mean we won’t even stop to say hello? To foil whatever galactic take-over schemes he has?”

“No.” The Colonel looked at the Doctor reproachfully. “Why, do you want to?”

“Not _per se_ ,” said the Doctor, carefully, “but I have rather gotten used to keeping the War Chief in check. Even if he is a terrible bore.”

“Someone else can take care of it,” said the Colonel. “I’ll send a message to the CIA, unless you’ve already managed to get yourself in trouble with the law again.”

“No, no, you do that.” The Doctor still hesitated. Finally, the Colonel threw up his hands, impatiently.

“What is it now?”

“Well,” said the Doctor, “it’s just that this whole situation doesn’t exactly seem full of the emotional maturity you claim to have gained. Not when you’re reporting an old school friend to the authorities just for interrupting our intimate time.” He folded his arms awkwardly.

“He interrupted with a fleet of Draconian cruisers,” the Colonel pointed out. “He’s trying to capture us for his own ends.”

“The War Chief has some trouble communicating,” said the Doctor. “Perhaps this is just his way of saying ‘congratulations on not being stuck on Earth.’ For both of us.”

“I see,” said the Colonel. “Well. I suppose you have two options. You can either wait for another,” he thought about it, “twenty-five minutes, and then go play your games with the War Chief. Or you can come with me and forget about that blundering idiot, for good if I have anything to say about it.” The Colonel wrenched the door to the bedroom open and stepped inside.

The Doctor rubbed at his neck.

“I would like to point out,” the Colonel stuck his head back out into the corridor, “that while both I and the War Chief might lack your much vaunted ‘emotional maturity,’ I, at least, have the courtesy to lie about it.” He retreated back into the room again.

The Doctor thought about it for at least two or three seconds.

“No contest,” he said, pulling the bedroom door shut behind him. “But perhaps we might just leave old Magnus a note.”

\---

The War Chief screamed in rage as the Doctor’s TARDIS faded away from the storage bay his minions had towed it to. All that was left behind was a piece of paper that flapped forlornly. The War Chief pushed away his anger and picked it up.

“Dear,” it began, but someone had crossed that out with a heavy hand. In fact, annotations covered the paper, replacing most of the normal pleasantries associated with letter-writing. The War Chief had to concentrate hard just to make out what the thing was actually supposed to say.

“Dear War Chief, I’m afraid I’m rather too occupied to deal with your heinous plots today. Or any time in the foreseeable future. As you’re aware that the Colonel is with me, you can no doubt ascertain why. Sorry.”

The War Chief growled and twirled one of his long moustaches around his finger, tight enough that it hurt. The nearest Draconians stepped quietly away from him, and then began to run as screeching noises filled the air. The War Chief ignored the commotion as he read the postscript that the heavy hand had added to the Doctor’s note.

“Go get your own,” it said. “By the way, enjoy your (hopefully quite lengthy) stay in the CIA’s care.”

The War Chief looked up just as Narvin stepped out of the bulkhead his TARDIS had disguised itself as. Similar bulkheads around the storage bay were disgorging CIA operatives, each one armed with a blaster and a slightly unnerving grin.

“Caught you in the act,” said Narvin, showing off his own weary smirk. “Tip from the Doctor. Has he finally gotten bored of you?”

“As you see,” snarled the War Chief. He wadded up the letter and threw it to the ground, where he stamped on it. “He is no longer a worthy adversary.”

“I’m so sorry,” said Narvin, insincerely. “Now, are you going to come quietly, or do I get to shoot you again?”

“But perhaps I have found a better nemesis.” The War Chief ignored Narvin’s words. Instead his eyes gleamed and his face transformed from angry despair to a triumphant leer. Narvin took a step back.

“Are you ill? Or insane? Never mind, it’s probably both.” He waved his ray gun threateningly. “Just get into my TARDIS and we’ll go.”

“Sweet words, Doc- Narvin, but I’m afraid I can’t comply,” said the War Chief. He reached into his jacket and produced a handheld teleportation device. “Places to go, you see.” He paused with his thumb over the button and grinned, winningly, while twirling his moustaches in a much less angry way than before.

Narvin shot him.

“They never learn,” he said, plucking the teleporter from the War Chief’s spasming hands. “To the zero room with you.” Narvin sighed and, in the absence of a helpful subordinate, picked up the War Chief’s feet to drag him into his TARDIS.

\---

“Aren’t you glad you stayed with me?” said the Colonel. He and the Doctor were lying together on a couch in the library. Or, rather, the Doctor was sitting up and trying to drink his post-coital tea while the Colonel lounged around and put his head in the Doctor’s lap and stroked the Doctor’s biceps and generally made it very difficult to drink anything.

“Yes,” said the Doctor. “Now, stop acting so pleased with yourself before you strain something.”

“Why shouldn’t I be happy?” asked the Colonel. “Everything’s sorted out, to both of our satisfaction.”

“It’s not the happiness I’m opposed to, it’s the smugness.” The Doctor batted the Colonel’s hand away from his cheek. “You’re going to make me upset my tea.”

“It’s very nearly the perfect day,” said the Colonel, unconcerned by the Doctor’s rudeness. “All we need is something to cap it off. Why don’t we go steal something?”

“Really, now,” said the Doctor, aghast. “You have picked up some bad habits on Earth. If you want an adventure, we should just rescue a planet instead. Perhaps some oppressed captives.”

“Why don’t we kidnap their oppressors and hold them for ransom?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” The Doctor gestured with his tea and sloshed some onto the Colonel, who yelped and sat up.

“That was hot!”

“If you would stop being such an inveterate criminal, perhaps I would be more careful,” said the Doctor.

Their bickering filled the TARDIS until they finally gave up and set her co-ordinates to a random destination. Luckily, it turned out rescuing the Venusian crystalline sepulcher and stealing it were more or less the same things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couple things, now that you've made it all the way through this: if you're interested, I wrote up a short thing about the history I played with in the story. It's [here](http://neveralarch.livejournal.com/6716.html).
> 
> Also, I got art for this story! There's an [awesome comic](http://best-enemies.livejournal.com/436610.html) by alex_e_smith, and an [amazing animation](http://best-enemies.livejournal.com/435026.html) by aqueousserenade.


End file.
